Trolls: Dårlig and Feige
by Emersonian
Summary: Sequel to GLADIOLA TROLLKONGE. Dårlig and Feige finally arrive in Villainapolis and prepare for the beginning of their future together until citizens, along with scattered Troll gemstones, start to mysteriously disappear one by one throughout the city. The duo then get dragged into helping the officials solve the case, even if it means allying with rivals and facing an old evil.
1. The Threads Of The Beginning

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 1: The Threads of the Beginning

 _(cue to the opening of a rusted storybook with only black silhouette drawings and an odd pair of needled hands sewing something up)_

Since life was created, happiness was something everyone desired. But while it's commonly know that happiness is on the inside, hardly anyone knows _where_ it came from. The Troll gemstones.

The Troll gemstones, as they were commonly called, were harvesting containers of energy that when harvested brought happiness and a long life. Originally, they were large as mountains, but then they were turned into tiny seeds that dispersed throughout the universe, thus spreading happiness to everyone. And from the heart connecting those happy links rooted the most Troll gemstones, and from those gemstones grew the Troll Tree, where the Trolls, the new harvesters of happiness, were born. As symbol of the impact they had, whenever a female Troll was born, she came with a small fragment of a Troll gemstone implanted on her navel.

But, what few people know is that the Troll gemstones attracted more greedy troubles than they did to happy times. Granted, almost everyone knows the story of how the Bergens ate Trolls for happiness, _but_ what they didn't know was that not long after the Trolls were captured and Bergen Town was founded, there was another species after happiness... to say the least.

That species... is an evil one. They are commonly known as _Aracdames._ Those female humanoid spiders of broken porcelain and metal were monsters who, for survival or pleasure, feasted on the flesh and souls of any child they encountered, but their beastly natures worsened when they discovered the existence of the Troll gemstones. They discovered that by removing the Troll gemstones from the places they were held, happiness easily disappeared, and children from those areas would be affected with such unhappy boredom, the Aracdames could lure them into their webs with more ease by using guaranteed happiness as a bait.

The Aracdames began this habit of stealing Troll gemstones and destroying them, causing the ever-happy universe to experience a despairing boredom that led at least a quarter of its population to die in the hands of the Aracdames. But the worst of all was the one they nicknamed _the Beldam._ Like her kind, she hunted children for survival, but unlike the rest of her kind, she had the habit of luring bored children in by pretending to be the perfected version of their mother and trapping them forever thanks to the abused happiness she offered them.

But what her kind wasn't aware of was that the Beldam actually grew bored of constantly luring and trapping, so she sought a way to gain herself immortality. After doing some thorough research, she discovered that she could gain immortality if she devoured the heart of a virgin who consumed twelve Troll gemstones in any means possible.

Luckily, before she could even act, the Aracdames were attacked. Angered by the deaths caused by those beasts, authorities had summoned a bounty hunter to kill them all. He was an expert at his work, skilled at knives, and currently the keeper of the Trolls. He was the royal Bergen Chef, but the Aracdames called him 'The Assassin.'

Eventually, he killed them all, with the last to die being the Beldam and her swearing that eventually she'll get her immortality and vengeance on the Assassin and whatever legacy he built. Since nobody knew the Troll gemstones' part in it, the Assassin was thanked for his bravery, and in return, all foreigners promised to never intervene with the Bergens' 'business' with the Trolls. As for the gemstones, they went on, camouflaged in the mist of the half-gray, half-colorful world we live in.

 _[...]_

The metal hands stopped their sewing and hung up something on the ceiling the same way you'd hang someone. The objects looked like button-eyed dolls of a Bergen and a Troll. A strange laughter echoed in the room as the two dolls were revealed to be part of million other dolls gathered together to make the words...

 **TROLLS: DÅRLIG AND FEIGE**

 _Right after the events of TROLLS: GLADIOLA TROLLKONGE_

Dårlig popped his eyes open. It was a miracle, he wasn't dreaming. He was really in the PENGUINS INC van transporting the riders to Villainapolis. His unbearable life as a kitchen wretch, harassed and abused by his own mother, was finally gone. True, he'd still have the scars, but at least he wouldn't live through them again.

"Tea?"

He lifted his head up. One of the members of PENGUINS INC, the correspondence that managed to arrange their immigration and settlement in Villainapolis, offered him a cup of steaming tea. "It's caffeinated," he said.

"Thank you." Dårlig accepted the cup. "And thank you again for arranging this."

"Anytime," the driver spoke up from his seat.

The PENGUINS INC van wasn't like any Dårlig had seen in his life. The driver's area, he couldn't see thanks to the titanium wall, but the back was quite luxurious. Leather seats, carpeted floor, and both sides of the van serving as either a mini computer lab for Genny Kowalski, the main nerd of the PENGUINS INC, or a tiny kitchen for Secret Private, the 'chick' of the group as the driver Rookie Skipper put it.

Dårlig turned his head and found his favorite person in the world sitting next to him. Feige was still going through an awed state about her new condition. After all, she had spent most of her life in a small size where Dårlig grew the comfortable habit of carrying her on his shoulders. Now she was matching him in size.

"I still can't believe I'm not dreaming..." Her eyes kept staring at her new hands. "I'm tall now."

Dårlig smiled at her. "At least the Feige I know hasn't changed." He took her hand and crossed his fingers with hers. Feige returned the happy smile to him. The warmth that their connection shared was quite beautiful. To think that these two friends, a Bergen and a Troll, grew up together to the point that they developed romantic feelings for one another. In the past, it just seemed impossible. How could two people of different sizes and species join together? Today marked the change.

"Oh, this is so exciting!" Genny stacked a bunch of papers and clipped them into a folder. "We've dealt with so many diverse immigrations to Villainapolis, but never any that involved a Bergen. Or a Troll. Together! And the Troll matching the Bergen size!"

"Easy there, Gen. They aren't your new lab rats!" Rookie warned. Dårlig and Feige held hands tightly.

"Which brings us to the point, how will we be settled in Villainapolis?" Dårlig asked.

"Not too hard enough," Secret spoke up in his authentic British accent. "We've managed to pull through a few strings so that you two could be nicely settled and have some jobs until you're permanently settled."

"Permanently settled?" Feige frowned.

"Immigrants have it easy in Villainapolis," Genny explained. "You're being placed for now in a friendly neighborhood apartment and in jobs where you gain minimal wage. Hopefully by the end of the year and the occasional additional six months, you've decided to find yourself a permanent place to settle in Villainapolis and a full-time career. Apartment, where going there first, and for jobs, we managed to find you two in the Villainapolis Mall. Dårlig will work as a cook in the mall's noodle shop while Feige works in the Evil Fashionista Store."

"For how much?" Dårlig asked.

"Hang on." Genny pulled out an abacus and started playing with the beads. "Convert the American dollar from Baltimore to the equivalent of blights, the Villainapolis currency... 40 blights an hour for the equivalence of 12 dollars."

"And with the two of us doing separate jobs, we'd be doubling everything!" Feige cupped Dårlig's cheeks, causing his skin to tingle. "Dårlig, this is even better than back when we were at Mr. Darwin's!"

"That is something," he agreed.

"And best part? The government pays for everything until you decide to permanently settle or if you have finally enlarged your bank account to support yourselves!" Secret pointed out.

Dårlig grinned. "Even better!"

"OK, troops!" Rookie parked the van rather abruptly, they shifted on their seats. Secret got some tea spilling onto his blue coat, Genny got her perfectly stacked papers flying onto her face, and Feige accidently landed on top of Dårlig, making the Bergen blush a bit when the tip of their noses touched. "We're here!"

"Splendid..." Genny grumbled. She popped the doors open and got out. The light blinded them for a while, but eventually Dårlig and Feige had no problem getting out. They gasped the moment they stepped out of the van.

The city of Villainapolis was dominating. From the hill the neighborhood they were in was located, the skyscrapers, clock towers, and various buildings from old-fashioned to modern stood beautifully in a gradient of purple while the afternoon sun illuminated over the blue. Despite the purple gradient, the city did have some stains of other colors. For instance, the neighborhood they were in, a place they learned later was called 'Foreigners Hill', was made of nice red bricked and white wooden row houses, each with a purple mailbox. They all faced this green roundabout full of picnic tables and a platform in case the neighborhood held a party.

The Penguin Cops, as the correspondence were called, led Dårlig and Feige inside the house labeled #667 and up to the upper apartment. The duo were beyond emotional when they entered their studio-sized apartment. Everything was at least a foot bigger than the cramped environment they once lived in. Feige looked excitement at the two bedrooms, knowing that one of them would finally serve as her personal space. Dårlig, in the meantime, rubbed his fingers on the smooth surface that belonged to the small, but perfect kitchen. Now it was all his.

He couldn't believe the dream was happening.

"I call dibs on this room!" Feige shouted. Right when Dårlig passed the room, he saw Feige cuddling the bed with eagerness while Genny reminded her that it wasn't a marshmallow. A grin appeared on his face.

He opened the door to his new room. The white walls welcomed him as he put down the only bag he had brought along on the bed. The room wasn't any bigger, but it was more comfortable than the attic he slept in. At least he had a large window with blinds that gave him the hill's view of the city.

One by one, he took out the items he had brought with him: a few clothes, white shirts for sleeping, a quilt made of fabric scraps, and a framed picture. The last one was probably the only thing he treasured the most. It was the very first thing that Feige drew for him when she learned to scrapbook at the age of five. For Christmas, she had made this card featuring her and Dårlig flying off into the night sky on a giant bumblebee leaving behind a rainbow trail. The words 'BEST FRIEND IN THE UNIVERSE' rose in bright blue letters. Dårlig looked happily at the picture and settled it on the nightstand.

"Everyone settled in?" Rookie shouted.

"Pretty much." Feige shrugged when they gathered in the living room.

"Good. Rita, Secret, and I need to go deal with the upcoming immigrations coming from Eviladelphia."

"How long will you be gone?" Genny asked.

"As long as it takes to fill up the papers," Rookie said, "but we'll need to take the van. Are you sure you won't have any trouble with the Bergen and the Troll?"

"Of course not." Genny high-fived her team. "I'll see you in a month."

The three teens nodded and made their way out, leaving Genny with Dårlig and Feige. "So how about we head to the mall? We can grab lunch there and I can introduce you to your new employers.

"Sounds good," Dårlig said.

"Great." They started making their way down after Dårlig succeeded in closing the door with his keys. But before they could open the door leading outside, Genny pulled her arm out to block them and keep them from stepping a foot further. The moment she thought it was safe, she let them pass and step back into the outside afternoon... right when a random passerby and some fold with a black pearl necklace separated each other, with the black pearl individual ditching out as fast as he could.

"What was that about?" Dårlig asked.

"Black market crooks." Genny shook her head in distaste. "A good proportion of the Villainapolis economy is in a crutch thanks to those twisted robbers, con artists, and counterfeit merchants. They can be recognized with their black pearled jewelry. Never by anything from them unless you're desperate or you can't find what you want in the normal markets!"

"If those crooks are so bad to the economy, why not just have the cops arrest them?" Dårlig asked. They walked down the sidewalk, smelling the fresh scents of planted narcissus flowers until they reached a spot where people were boarding a tramway.

"Simple," she said. "Their main goal, surprisingly, is to make sure that no outside force harms Villainapolis, so they could care less if we had local parasites. Don't forget. This _is_ a town of villains."

 _Later_

The Villainapolis Mall looked like any mall they had seen in magazines and TV broadcasts back in the human world, only it was made of pure white marble and glass and rose to the height of the Baltimore baseball stadium. Dårlig and Feige followed Genny out of the tramway and paused a bit when Genny looked in confusion at the police cars gathered around the entrance. Customers were seen complaining as large, buff men in fur coats and clubs escorted them out.

"What's up with the Mongolians?" Dårlig asked.

"The Hun Elites. They're the Head Executive Police of Villainapolis. They only come when things get particularly nasty," Genny said. "Follow me cautiously."

They nodded and slowly followed her as they approached the area were the customers were huddling the most to get a better view of what was going on. Genny led the duo through the crowd until she found a boy leaning by one of the main pillars for space. He looked like he could be of Dårlig's age, but his purple skin , grey Mohawk hair, and pointed ears were far smoother and saturated than those of a Bergen. He had straight white teeth, a muscular human physique, and wore a black leather jacket over purple pants and lots of conch themed accessories from his neck to his sneakers.

"Hey, Sean," Genny spoke to him. "What's going on?"

"Freak burglary in the mall's jewelry shop... Or kidnapping. Point is, somebody reported to the Huns that after the place suddenly closed up an hour after opening and reopened five seconds later, all the products and the vendor went missing," he said gruffly. "Everyone's being evacuated and they're closing the mall until the investigations are over."

"Shit!" Genny cussed. "I was supposed to bring these two to their new jobs right here at the mall!"

Sean turned his head to look at the duo. They both gave him small greeting waves at them. His jaw dropped and he blinked his eyes before rubbing them and he looked back at them. "A Bergen... and a Troll? Together?"

"I'm Feige, nice to meet you." Feige shook the hand of this still befuddled Sean. She then went to hug Dårlig's arm. "And this is my guy, Dårlig."

"Sup?" He said casually.

Sean still had his jaw dropped. He pointed a finger that kept changing from Dårlig to Feige. "Wow... I mean" He pulled away his finger. "Since when do Bergens date Trolls without, you know..."

"Eating them?" Feige filled for them.

"Yeah."

"Let's just say it's a seventeen years thing and I had a rotten childhood," Dårlig shrugged. He wasn't really enjoying how Sean, though hiding it, looked like their relationship was freaking him out as if it was a taboo thing.

"Well, welcome to Villainapolis." Sean gave a small thumbs-up, though he still looked a bit nervously at Dårlig, making the latter scowl. The guy was just tall enough to match him thanks to the Mohawk, but why was he terrified?

"Great, now how am I going to find jobs for you two?" Genny pulled her abacus and played with the beads. "My cousins and I had to pull two-months worth of strings and connections to get you these jobs and with Rookie, Rita, and Secret off to Eviladelphia..."

"They need jobs?" Sean said. "Because I think I can offer a loophole. My girlfriend Ingwer just got an opportunity to be an herbalist-on-the-go. She'll be too busy, her mom needs a new pair hands for the bakery and Ingwer will need somebody to substitute her in babysitting." He turned to Dårlig and Feige. "Any of you know how to cook?"

"He does." Feige tilted her head at Dårlig.

"Jolly, a Bergen cook." A sour tone came out of Sean's lips. "Oh well, I suppose it can work out with Ingwer's mom. And Feige, you think you can handle the babysitting? I must warn you in advance, most of Ingwer's babysitting revolves around her taking care of my eight sisters and eight female cousins. My mom and aunt pay her big time just for dealing with those monsters."

"Now, Sean, just because you and your cousin Mordred are the only guys in your family doesn't mean the girls are pure evil." Genny snorted.

Sean scowled. "Clearly you've never been inside my house."

"And Dårlig and I had to deal with insufferable humans, so I guess I can handle sixteen little demons," Feige said firmly. "When can I start?"

 _She's so brave_ , Dårlig thought in pride.

"Just to your luck, my mom and my aunt have to go to a poker party tomorrow, if that works for you."

"Sean, if you weren't such a dork in general, I'd have thanked you," Genny sighed.

"Eh." He shrugged. "So, who's ready to go to my girlfriend's bakery?"

 _Later, again_

They got off another tramway and walked down Vice Avenue, a rather busy street with people going off to work or shopping at the local stores or going to the local hangout places.

"So outside from being the scullery maid of your house, you sell squid ink?" Dårlig asked Sean. He still couldn't get over the fact that Sean gave him the disgusted look.

"Cecaelia ink, pal, not squid. Squid ink, that's stuff you can easily purchase at the Pirate Cove Market just by the bay. Very cheap and frequently used for eastern dishes," Sean said clearly. "Cecaelia ink is by far every exotic and purer in black substance. Unless you know a half human, half octopus creature that gladly squirts out the stuff in bottles and sell it, it's hard to purchase it. Most black market crooks make tons of money by tricking desperate customers into buying a bottle from them."

"Can't the buyers tell if it's fake?"

"Not really. That's how the crooks manage to play. Either they _do_ get the stuff and charge highly for its authenticity, or they just get some gunk and use black food coloring. It's happened frequently where I lose cash on my ink vending because rumors go around that somebody else got swindled with fake or real them that cost them every cash in their wallet."

"I do find it hard to believe that the police don't bother arresting them," Feige admitted. "Back in Baltimore, we nearly got arrested for trying to contact a drug dealer." Genny gave her a shocked look. "Dårlig was going through Bergen puberty, his mother refused to give him medication."

"That makes sense," Genny said.

"Well, now that you mention it, the police does interfere if black market crooks or any buyer gets involved in D.A.P." Sean walked ahead of them as the pedestrian light turned to white.

"D.A.P?" Dårlig asked.

"Drugs and poisons. Murder is forbidden in Villainapolis and any drug that's not registered by any healing center or pharmacy or even apothecary will not be tolerated. Break that rule and you get imprisoned for at least half of your remaining life span, so unless you want to go to jail and wait until you're... Ah, here we are!"

They got inside a simple-looking orange bakery called 'The Brewing Cupcake'. The moment they opened the door, causing the doorbell to ring, they stepped inside a gingerbread wonderland. While the walls were made of dried paint and wooden beams, the paint was colored to appear and smell like lemon zest, the beams were dried chocolate sticks, and the carpeted floor looked like a herd of hairy chocolate chip cookies. The glass displays of all the breads, buddings, cakes, cupcakes, and so many more made Dårlig's mouth water. Even though he had spent years working in a restaurant's kitchen, he was always denied a piece of sugar, making it tantalizing to the point that he had to use uneaten dessert leftovers to make himself a birthday cake.

Sean walked over to the counter and pressed the bell. A woman pushed the door leading to the kitchen and stepped. She looked like a normal middle-aged human woman with burning red on her skin, but her mass of brown hair was messy and had pieces of candy stuck in it. Her blue shirt's sleeves were rolled over, revealing her rather bony hands, and she wore a white apron on top of her orange skirt. Purple eyes gleamed below her glasses.

"Why, Sean! How is my favorite daughter's boyfriend?" She asked.

"Mrs. Hexe, Ingwer is your only child and thus your only favorite!" Sean joked. He and Mrs. Hexe laughed their heads off until Sean went back to the topic. "Mrs. Hexe, I know you have a lot on your plate right now with Ingwer gone, but Genny here has two new immigrants whose new jobs got held back because the mall's closed..."

"The jewelry shop incident?" Mrs. Hexe guessed.

"You've heard?" Genny widened her eyes.

"Ingwer texted to me about it. Rather surprising. I know the jewelry shop owner because he always comes here every morning to grab a cup of coffee and one of my cinnamon rolls before going to work. He did look unusually unhappy today..."

"Unhappy as in he was having a bad or unhappy as in his life was hell?" Feige asked.

"Probably both. I do hope he's OK. Ingwer said he disappeared mysteriously."

"Along with every single jewel he sold." Genny shook her head. "And because of that, they're closing down the mall until the investigation is over. Problem is, it means that these two won't be able to start working until who knows when." She pointed at Dårlig and Feige. "Sean said Ingwer became an herbalist-on-the-go, so he suggested that Dårlig fill in for Ingwer's shifts at the bakery while Feige does the babysitting."

Mrs. Hexe leaned over the counter. She straightened her glasses in order to have a good view of what she was dealing. "A Bergen in my kitchen... Well, I suppose we can work this out. After all, this is temporary."

 _Seriously_ , _what do they have against me_? Dårlig thought before asking: "When may I start?"

"I suppose you could start tomorrow morning. Wednesdays are far busier than Tuesdays, so I'll definetly need help in the kitchens. Perhaps you could start at 7am?"

"Thank you very much," he said with a nod.

And Mrs. Hexe had been generous, she gave them free macaroons to feast on.

 _Later in the night_

Dårlig was having a hard time falling asleep. He wasn't quite sure what was keeping him. His first theory was that the bed felt too marshmallowy than his old attic rough mattress, the softness was distracting. Or his second theory, he felt dizzy about his day.

The job finding was challenging, but at least they had a start. Then they had gone around to see if they could purchase any supplies for the apartment: food for the kitchen, soaps and medical aid for the bathroom, brooms and sponges for the kitchen closet, additional clothes for their rooms, and whatever artistic crafting tools Feige could have that could make the apartment feel homely.

As Dårlig sat by the window, unable to sleep but admiring the view of Villainapolis under the sleeping spell, he tried to process everything that happened. For one, his dream was accomplished. He and Feige were rid of their parents once and for all and now they could start the free life they wanted. But for another, he still had to remember that his original murder plan failed, which led to matricide. At least he was better off here than with the Trolls. But what was it that Sean seemed to have against Dårlig being a Bergen?

A knock came on the door. Judging by its peculiar four-beat tone, he knew who was behind it. "Feige?" He called out. "The door's unlocked."

The door quietly pushed in and the female Troll came in, holding on tightly to her orange pajamas. "Dårlig... I can't sleep," she said.

He held out his arm, inviting her in. "Welcome to the club then."

She didn't hesitate and walked over to sit next to him. It was one of their habits when they grew up together. As children, Feige would have frequent nightmares that related to Troll fears from being stomped on or worse, getting eaten by the Bergen who was her only best friend. Whenever those nightmares came, the young Dårlig had the habit of occasionally opening his eyes in the middle of the night and seeing the small thing snuggling on his big hand.

This time was rather different. Evidently, they weren't immediately adapting to their newfound luxury. At they least their habit didn't die... if you include the fact that Feige was now big enough for Dårlig to put his arm over her shoulders for protection.

"Rather strange day, isn't it?" She said.

"Strange in what way?" He asked while staring at the window.

Feige noticed the tone in his voice. "Dårlig, you're thinking about how Sean and Mrs. Hexe reacted, aren't you?"

"Feige, I need to double-check," he spoke unsurely and looked at her. "Am I a freak or some sort of monster?"

The Troll bit her lip and examined him as if she were trying to think. "Let me see... healthy skin, straight teeth, a particular body color palette..." That last comment made him chuckle. "Good hygiene... Not much difference. I mean, you're practically me... Except, you know, you're a bit chubby!" She playfully poked him on the stomach.

"Hey! Not fair!" He laughed.

"What? You eat more than me!" She giggled.

"That was back when I held you on my shoulder!" He protested.

"And Dr. Feige therefore concludes your medical transcripts: there is absolutely nothing wrong with you." She smiled and cupped Dårlig's cheeks in her hands, making him feel like he could get used to this. "Look, people just need time to know the real you. I'm sure that you're going to do so well, the others will change their opinions on you."

"Thanks, Feige," he sighed. "But I don't know what bugs me more: being insulted or being insulted for being what I am."

"An immigrant?""

"A Bergen." He said. "The way Abyss and Mrs. Hexe reacted when they saw me? They acted like the problem was with my species rather than my personality. Granted, I don't care much about other Bergens, but I wonder what made them targets of such racism."

"Dårlig, we've seen racism and other forms of discrimination for years. Have you ever noticed how your mom behaved around my dad and me?" Feige frowned.

"Thanks for reminding me," he sulked. He didn't need the memories of his mother, the Bergen Chef, bullying him throughout his childhood, trying to encourage him into eating Feige because 'that is the only thing Trolls and Bergens can find with each other', and other childhood traumas. He especially didn't need the reminder of the matricide back in Bergen Town.

"Try not to think too much about it, OK?" Feige hugged him by the waist and rested her head on his chest. "Tomorrow will be the start of everything. You'll start working at the bakery and me with babysitting. By working together, our future will be established."

Dårlig smiled at her and ran his fingers through her hair. "You're right. I'm probably overreacting."

They stayed there, cuddled up, and finally fell asleep, joining the rest of the neighborhood in a peaceful slumber under the moonlight, while the alley rats went out to play.


	2. Day For Philanthropy

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 2: Day For Philanthropy

People usually really on alarm clocks or annoying phones to get them up and ready for the day. But not with Dårlig. Thanks to the brutal years of abusiveness and tough training Chef gave him, his body knew when to make his skin feel agitated when it was 5am. The sun wasn't up by then, but Dårlig was.

Unlike him, Feige was still deeply sleeping. Dårlig took the moment to take her in his arms, briefly shocked that even though her measurements had multiplied, she was no heavier, and tucked her in his bed. He smiled at the sight of his Troll companion being lost into sweet dreams. At least she didn't have to worry about babysitting until later in the day.

After searching through his closet and pulling out a grey short-sleeved shirt, brown pants, and slipping-free black shoes, he gave himself a shower. His lips came out with a bite mark for when he held back his screams. It wasn't his fault if he mostly took cold showers all-year back in his dreadful home.

His breakfast was small and quick: just a simple cup of caffeinated black tea and jammed toast. After brushing his teeth and grabbing his satchel bag, he placed a piece of paper with a note on the kitchen counter.

" _Feige, I went off to work. It may take a long time, but I promise to be home in time for us to have the rest of the day together. Good luck babysitting at the Abyss household. Hugs, Dårlig."_

He then got out of the apartment and into the street. The sunrise was still an hour away, so the neighborhood was still cuddled up in its peaceful slumber. Even the last evening tramway moved its wheels silently as it allowed Dårlig to climb aboard. Hardly anybody else got aboard at this time of the day, so the ride was pretty silently until Dårlig reached his destination. Even there, when it was fifteen minutes to sunrise, the shops weren't even open.

Despite his earliness, he headed to the back alley that led to the employees' entrance of the Brewing Cupcake until he heard a squeaking noise. He turned his head and yelped in disgust. From one of the shaking garbage cans scurried a rat.

Now, one would assume that everything his mother taught him to despise was something he preferred to admire, but the rats were the one thing Dårlig dared to admit his mother was right. Before he was even allowed to work in the kitchens, the young Bergen was forced to learn how to chase away the vermin, and for some reason, the rat species was the one thing he couldn't stand. Cockroaches, spiders, bats, ravens, even Canadian beasts, those daily-pests he could appreciate, but he put a cross on rodents.

"Out! Shoo!" He waved his hand at the beast, ordering it to leave. It did nothing except hiss and stare at him with its oddly red beady eyes, as if suggesting Dårlig to bite it.

Ticked by its stubbornness, Dårlig looked around the alley until he stumbled upon an old abandoned pry bar. Not hesitating one bit, he grabbed it and threw it at the rat. "C'MON! SHOO!" He spat. The rat dodged it. Dårlig grabbed the pry bar, and when the rat wasn't looking, he brought it down on its neck. A final gasp of breath escaped its rotted mouth... and sand spilled out of its cut skin instead of blood.

"Gross!" Dårlig used the other end of the pry bar to pick up the carcass and tossed it into an open garbage can. He placed the pry bar next to the door, just in case in needed again to get rid of another filthy rat.

" _Kill... them... all..._ "

Something grabbed him by the arms and shook him. A disheveled old man in rags almost dropped on him. The black pearls sewn onto his scarf indicated he was one of the black market crooks. Dårlig wanted to push him off until he saw the man's eyes. They were completely void of any eyeballs, which made Dårlig have a terrifying face-to-face with empty sockets bleeding the life out of them.

"What on earth..." Dårlig gasped.

The man coughed and clutched his arms. " _Beldam... she... stones..."_ His horrible coughing prevented him from elaborating his sentences.

"Sir, you need to go to a hospital!" Dårlig said uneasily.

" _Wants... T... stones... W...Warn..."_ The coughing finally killed him, but he was able to say his last words clearly. " _Warn Will... at the Crooked Mill._ "

The man's dead body finally collapsed into Dårlig's arms. Since he didn't have a new phone like the ones in Villainapolis yet, Dårlig didn't know how to contact the nearest hospital to report a dead man. All he could do was make the dead man lay down next to the garbage cans and put him in a resting position. The empty eye sockets still creeped him out, so he pulled out a piece of tissue from his satchel and placed it above them. As the red stains covered the white fabric, he made praying gestures.

 _Warn Will... at the Crooked Mill._ What could that mean?

 _Later, around noon_

"Alright, everyone!" Mrs. Hexe told her employees. "It's lunch break, so let's feed ourselves up!"

Aside from the alley incident, Dårlig didn't have much trouble with his first day of work at the Brewing Cupcake. Naturally, it was a rather awkward moment when Mrs. Hexe and her sister came around 6:30 am and finding Dårlig waiting for them way ahead of his time and with blood stains on his shirt. When he admitted that he killed a rat and dealt with a crazy man who just died, they merely shrugged and said it was frequent for the homeless to turn to suicide. Then again, Dårlig wasn't sure if the man's last words were something one would say in self-murder. But he didn't say anything and was just happy to wash his hands, get a new shirt, and actually get a salary.

The Brewing Cupcake didn't have many employees. From what Dårlig came to learn, it was mostly run by the women of the Hexe family, all three being witches. Mrs. Hexe came up with the recipes, took the customers' orders, and dealt with the receipts. Her sister (whom Dårlig dubbed Mrs. Hexe's Sister) was primarily in charge of dishes and cleaning, and Mrs. Hexe's daughter Ingwer (whom Dårlig was replacing) was in charge of all the cooking and baking. The kitchen was roughly as big as the one in his new apartment, but Dårlig quickly adjusted. He took no time to frolic and put his back into it. By the time it took Mrs. Hexe's Sister the time to clean up five orders, he had managed to quickly learn and perform the instructions that Mrs. Hexe gave him for the cooking. He spent hours mixing eggs, chopping fruits and grinding nuts, testing the value of each ingredient, and ensuring that the temperature and timing of a baking patch of cupcakes was perfect. Even Mrs. Hexe was surprised at how the Bergen worked so hard silently, only giving a nod when he was given orders. If his hands were sore, he merely cracked his knuckles and went back to his job. He even worked so fast and with such accuracy, the witch got multiple tips from her customers for the fast service and good quality.

"Your hands look awfully bruised," she told him when they all sat in the kitchen for their lunch break. Her sister pulled out a bag with meat sandwiches she had procured before coming to work. "Do you need an ice pack?"

"No thank you, ma'am," he shook his head politely. "I think they'll be fine." Years of Chef hitting him on the knuckles with a spatula to get his attention really worked out. At least she didn't use her knives on him.

"You're Plashes' son, aren't you?"

Dårlig choked on his first bite into his meat sandwich. This was the first time he ever heard anyone talk about his mother in her actual Bergen name. Such a ridiculous name, 'Plashes', was easily forgotten when you were the deadly 'Chef'.

"How did you know?" He asked.

"You have her smell and close appearance, and your evident cooking skills proved me correct," Mrs. Hexe said nicely. "But it's also pretty evident that she treated you badly enough, you don't even have her personality. For that, I'm sorry for my attitude."

"You knew her?" Dårlig put aside the sandwich. "Is that why you and Sean Abyss didn't like me?"

"Well let's just say that your mother did something that none of the same-gender species in Villainapolis came to appreciate and that led to misjudging Bergens." Mrs. Hexe's Sister chewed on her own sandwich viciously. "But then, I guess she told you it was nothing big..." Dårlig's confused expression sold everything. "I can't believe it. She never told you what happened seven years ago? The first and last time she came to this town?"

"She never said anything about... Oh, wait. Seven years ago was when she went on a trip to a herbal market in Virginia. I guess it was just a cover. But I'll never find out since she's dead..."

"Hallelujah!" Mrs. Hexe's Sister said in joy. "I mean, sorry about your loss."

"No need to apologize, she wasn't the nicest hag ever." Dårlig shook his head. "So, what did she do? Kill somebody she mistook for a Troll?"

"Actually, it's more of what she _didn't_ do. Great canes, I can't believe you know nothing of your own heritage." Mrs. Hexe shook her head and walked over to the shelf where she kept all of her recipe books. One of them, however, was not a cookbook but an ancient encyclopedia of all existing vile species, still remaining or existent. Whether or not she used it for meat references would still be a mystery. She opened up the book to a certain page, revealing an illustration of what looked like a medieval Bergen Chef dicing up a strange half-woman, half-spider beasts made of artificial organs.

"For same-gender species like the ones of my sister and I and of Sean's family, the Bergen Chef was seen as a hero because he rid us of the Aracdames, foul creatures who took advantage of children's bored lives and promised them eternal happiness as long as they stayed with the Aracdames and got buttons sewn on their eyes."

"Buttons..." Dårlig gulped and touched the bottom of his right eye. "Just so I know, what are same-gender species?"

"It's not restricted to one gender, but it just means that the dominating sex is the one with the most powers," Mrs. Hexe's Sister said. "Each species is different, but if there's one thing that all same-gender species have in common, it's that they will aim for young, innocent victims from a specific group to satisfy their starvation. Take my sister. In the human world, she's known as the Candy Witch."

"From Hansel and Gretel? Wait, how did you survive the oven?" Dårlig asked.

"You don't want to know, but I eventually had to retire due to gingerbread real estate issues." Mrs. Hexe shook her head.

"But you eat children."

"I used to." She chuckled when she saw Dårlig gulp. "Don't worry. As long as you're thirteen or older and hopefully no longer a virgin by the time you reach adulthood, you're useless meat. Teenage flesh is not the best kind."

"So I hear." Dårlig grimaced. "So what's so horrible about the Aracdames and why is does it involve my... I mean, the Bergen Chef?"

"Granted, the same-gender species' habits of targeting children is not pretty, but if there's one thing we all agree on, it's that we hunt them to feast on their flesh for survival. The Aracdames, on the other hand, saw their feeding as a sport. 'Eyes are windows to the soul', as the old saying says. Once an Aracdame gets her victim to stay with her, she has the child get his eyes replaced by buttons, leaving him at her mercy. She'll keep it around, then suck his soul, and discard it like an old doll. Unlike us, they were savage.

"It's bad enough that in the Dark days, many children died at their clutches, but the worst of them was the Beldam. Now _her_ nastiest trick was to take the form of the children's mothers and pretend to be the perfect clone, giving you divine food, wonderful toys to play with, and offer a divine wonderland version of your boring home." Mrs. Hexe shook her head in a hint of fear. "Honestly, just thinking about the myth is a reason why I make sure Ingwer has a good, happy life. I don't know what I would do if she got taken by an Aracdame!"

Dårlig felt a pit of jealousy in his stomach. Why couldn't Chef worry about such things for him the same way Mrs. Hexe worried about her own child? Regardless, he continued listening to Mrs. Hexe. "Eventually it was discovered that the Beldam was trying to find a way to be immortal, so authorities hired one of your ancestors to put an end to it. He killed every single Aracdame, the Beldam being the last one. He was thanked and the other same gender species blessed him. After all, he did save their own children."

"Wow." Dårlig never knew he had at least _one_ decent ancestor. "But... what did Plashes do that was terrible?"

"Well, the worst came." Mrs. Hexe's Sister threw away the sandwich wrap. "Seven years ago, the Hun Elites discovered that one Aracdame managed to survive the massacre from a thousand years ago. To top it all, the admitted she was the orphaned offspring of the Beldam. She even called herself Otrera Beldam."

"Children began to disappear all over the city and Otrera was too witty and quick to even be physically found, until one night." Mrs. Hexe put the book back on the shelf. She sighed. "She tried to attack Willy Wonka's son right in the boy's bedroom on the eve of his thirteenth birthday!"

"She tried to take the opportunity to hunt on what would be his official 'last day as a child'?" Dårlig asked.

"Yes. No one knows why she'd do it to such a wealthy heir and on such a day, but the Hun Elite and the boy's father came just in time to apprehend her. They banished her from the city despite her promises to return..."

"And the boy still disappeared." Her sister shook her head. "He just got saved from certain death, and he still vanishes."

"Did Otrera take her with him?" Dårlig asked.

"No one knows. I mean, by the time she got banished, he turned into a teenager so it was useless for her to kill him. He probably just ran away in fright. The police gave up after two years of searching. Evidently he wasn't brave enough to go back home."

"And my biological relative?"

"Well, like you said, she did go on a trip to fetch herbs. She came to the Brewing Cupcake to ask me on where to procure the best herbs in town, and that's when the news came out about Otrera's existence, capture, and banishment," Mrs. Hexe explained. "When one of my same gender dragon species customers, who's a complete history nerd, recognized her odor as the one belonging to the same Bergen who disposed of the Aracdames..." Her voice trailed off, unsure as of what to say.

"They wondered why the hell her ancestor didn't kill Otrera or why Plashes herself didn't finish the job," Dårlig concluded. "To be fair, she was never the kind to really worry about others except if it was to her advantage, even before she was banished from Bergen Town the first time." He looked at the clock. "Well, I guess I'd better get back to my shift. Thank you again for telling me the truth."

"Of course."

The front door's dinging bell ringed. "I'm _here!_ " A female voice exclaimed.

Dårlig heard customers getting agitated and shouting stuff. While he was curious to know what was going on, he chose to stick to his post. He wasn't paid to fawn over the customers.

"Pause your work, Dårlig! You _have_ to meet her!" Mrs. Hexe dragged Dårlig and pushed him out of the kitchen in excitement. He found himself witnessing at least a dozen customers facing a group of two people. They didn't look like much, hardly any different than the elite business folks he had encountered in Baltimore. They were both teenagers, the girl being older than Feige but younger than Dårlig and the guy being his age. She wore a white polka dotted black business suit over a pink dress while he wore a white trench coat over his blue jumpsuit. She wore black high heels and matching opera gloves while he wore brown running shoes and black-leathered gloves. Her hair was long, black, and straightened until the ends curled upward on the shoulders while his white hair was gelled back. Her skin was white and delicate, which was emphasized by her right hand holding a walking skin, while his skin was rough and tanned. Both wore dark sunglasses.

The customers seemed more excited to talk to the girl, asking her questions or expressing their admirations. She responded back to them with such pleasantness while the other one just stood behind her, his arms crossed.

"Who are they?" Dårlig asked Mrs. Hexe.

"She is Madleb Arerto, Villainapolis' most successful philanthropist and resourcist. And that is Narrow D Bight, her bodyguard."

"What's a resourcist?"

"I explore resources."

Dårlig and Mrs. Hexe nearly yelped at the sudden presence of Ms. Arerto, who freely walked to the counter as soon as her fans left her alone. As Dårlig noticed how she moved the walking stick to feel stuff ahead of her and how her spare hand wandered off, he concluded that everyone's favorite 'resourcist' was blind.

"As a resourcist, I explores the options out there that are beneficial for the survival of both every species and every community in this town," she said quite cheerfully. "In other words, how to access things that people can use to gain fresh water on a daily basis and whatnot on a free scale. It's more profitable than the artificial product-making factories."

"That's awfully generous," Dårlig said with a smile. "In other words, you promise a safe, sanitary life for _every_ citizen from the rich to the poor?"

"This guy really gets it! What's your name, kid?"

"Dårlig Bergen, Ms. Arerto."

She smiled and snapped her fingers. "Narrow, don't leave me hanging! Help me shake this guy's hand!"

"Right!" Narrow reached out and pulled Dårlig's hand, making the latter lean over the counter and have his feet hanging off the floor while Ms. Arerto shook hands with him in a very giddy manner.

"I'm so excited! I can't believe I'm actually meeting a young Bergen with such optimism!" She said in excitement. "You must be one of a kind!"

"Well, I do have a great friend who acts as my happiness counselor," he said. "Feige is an awfully great part of my life."

"And I'm sure this Feige must be the luckiest girl in the world!" Ms. Arerto stopped shaking hands with him and placed her business card in his hands faster than light. "Awfully great to meet you, Dårlig! I happily welcome you to Villainapolis! If you ever need assistance, whether it's work or social, never hesitate to call or stop by my house and I'll be waiting with a pouch full of ideas!"

"Wow... thanks!"

"Ta-ta!" Ms. Arerto tapped her way out of the Brewing Cupcake while Narrow simply walked out.

"Wow. For a blind woman who's dedicated to helping others out, she's incredibly eccentric and nice!" Dårlig said as he went back on his feet.

"You got incredibly lucky!" Mrs. Hexe said. "By building connections with that resourcist, you can build connections and resources from anyone in the city! Dårlig, by befriending her, you managed to guarantee your future! You ought to be proud!"

Dårlig, still shocked by what all happened, looked between Mrs. Hexe and the business card.

 _Meanwhile, across town_

Feige looked again at the paper she was holding and then back at the house surrounded by Hun Elite vehicles. Neighbors were surrounding the area to get a better view of what was going on.

"Excuse me," she asked the nearest lady. "Is this the house of the Abyss family? I was supposed to come here to help Sean Abyss babysit his siblings and cousins."

"Oy, he could really use help right now," the woman said as she held tightly to her hair dryer. "The entire family stayed inside the house all day in case the Huns found something. Apparently one of the little girls disappeared."

"Oh God..." Feige used her Troll hair to grab a street light and swing over the crowd and police cars. Some of the Huns outside were too stunned to even keep her from pushing the gate open and running inside the grey house. The door was already open and at least one Hun was inspecting every room. She heard distant sobbing and found it coming from the living room. A fat purple skinned woman in a black dress was wailing on the couch while her skinny, green-skinned sister tried to console her and a ginormous Hun tried in vain to ask her questions. Feige found Sean standing by the doorway, holding back tears in vain.

"Sean! What happened?" She headed over to him.

"Feige!" He brushed away his tears and sniffed. "I forgot you were supposed to come..."

"Sean, is that the Troll you told me was supposed to replace Ingwer to babysit the girls?" His aunt asked.

"Yeah, this is Feige. Feige, my aunt Morgana and my mom Ursula."

"Nice to meet you all, but Sean, what happened?" Feige pressed. "The neighbors said one of the girls went missing."

Sean sniffed. He no longer looked like the guy who drily questioned a Troll being with a Bergen. "I... I thought it was just going to be at the mall... but... it's happened here." He cried. "Feige, they... someone took my sister Naomi."

Feige dropped her mouth. "Gosh, I'm so sorry. How old is she?"

"Seven."

"My poor baby is gone!" Ursula cried in her hands.

"Where was she the last time you saw her?" Feige asked.

"Well the bus dropped them off in front of the house as it usually does after school..." Sean hesitated. "Then again, aside me and Mordred and our moms, it's sixteen girls total. She could have easily gone off to bed while we were having a family movie night last night. All we know is that Amy found her out of bed this morning... and after we searched everywhere in the house, we called the Huns."

"Amy?"

"My two-year-old sister. They share a room together." Then, out of nowhere, a small girl in a purple dress ran in to hug Sean on the legs. "Don't worry, Amy. We'll find Naomi!"

"Naomi gone!" She cried. "Naomi gone after making big boom!"

"Big boom!" Feige frowned.

The little girl nodded. "Naomi make big boom every time she kicks me out of the room to play with her dolly!"

Feige frowned. How could a seven-year-old make a 'big boom'? Did Amy mean that Naomi slammed the door?

Feige instantly walked out of the living room and rushed up the stairs, the others following behind. The second floor was full of bedrooms, each occupied by an Abyss daughter getting anxious over the disappearance and at least one Hun rechecking to make sure they missed nothing.

The Troll girl looked at the bedroom with the door label 'Amy and Naomi's room'. So far, aside from the Hun rechecking the closet, she saw nothing suspicious unless she thought that the violet flower wallpapers did the crime. The room itself was so adorable, with two separate beds, many shelves holding books and pictures, and two trunks holding toys.

"Did Naomi and Amy get into a fight or something? Otherwise, the room suggests nothing right away," she turned her head to look at the others.

Amy shook her head while her aunt picked the little thing up. "The girls share rooms only if they get along. Amy and Naomi got very well together. They shared everything."

"Naomi not share dolly!" Amy shook her head. "Naomi did big boom just to be with dolly!"

"Did she do the big boom after she closed the door on you, sweetie?" Feige did a boop on Amy's nose, a technique she learned from her father when he played the cover of 'Best Daddy'. Amy obviously fell for it and giggled. "Naomi did big boom after closing!"

"Naomi make big boom after closing..." Feige repeated and looked at every inch of the bedroom. "Perhaps she moved furniture to play with her doll? I mean, if you guys were downstairs watching a movie, you probably couldn't here her moving furniture. It would have to be a big one..." She paused and looked at the area where the beds were aligned. "Which one is Naomi's ?"

"The one with the jellyfish pillows, but she couldn't possibly... GAAH!" They ducked when Naomi's bed went flying, courtesy of Feige using her hair to swing it out of place. Feige then screamed and picked something up.

"What... is _that_?" She held up the thing. At first eye, it looked like a simple sand-filled, button-eyed doll that were give to children to play with, but the sight of the doll really disturbed the Abyss family.

"The dolly!" Amy shouted.

"That thing looks like my sister!" Sean exclaimed.

"I don't like this..." The ginormous Hun pulled out a plastic bag and put the doll in there. "If you don't mind, I'll have this inspected by my colleagues. Just to see what kind of danger we're dealing with here."

"Hopefully not a visit to the dentist," Feige said. Aside from the doll, the bed had been hiding an area of the carpeted floor being cut off to reveal the original stone floor. The floor had an odd scratched 'doodle' of a little door without a doorknob and dozens of rainbow candy wrappers were scattered over it. She picked one up and read it out loud. "'Wonka Everlasting Gobstopper. A never ending fun-time of never-ending flavors.'"

The ginormous Hun scowled as she read it out loud and turned to the Abyss. "We'll have to do more research in our facility. We'll let you know as soon as we find out anything about your daughter."

"Sheriff Shan-Yu, if I may," Sean spoke. "Please let me tag along. Naomi's my little sister. I'd feel horribly responsible if she was lost for good.

The sheriff nodded. "I understand. Your noble intentions are welcomed." He turned to look at Feige, who kept staring at the odd door carving. "And Miss Feige?"

"Yes?"

"I believe I'd like to have a word with you at the police station."

 _Later_

Rain poured in by the time Dårlig arrived back in the neighborhood. He just arrived in front of the door when he found a brown package with his name on it. "'To Dårlig Bergen from one of your new neighbors.'" Not wanting to get even more soaked, he grabbed the package and rushed back inside.

"Feige?" He called out. The lights were off in the apartment. "Of course. She's babysitting tonight."

He dropped his satchel onto the floor and went to the kitchen, where he grabbed a knife and cut open the package. A white card rested on top of something bundled up in pink foil.

"' _To our new neighbor. After hearing of your niceness from our beloved resourcist Ms. Madleb Arerto, I decided to use every scrap I had to make you this humble welcoming gift. Sincerely, one of your neighbors._ '"

"How sweet," he said. Aside from Feige, Dårlig had never received any gifts from anyone else. Maybe meeting Ms. Arerto would turn out his life for the better.

He unraveled the paper and blinked. There, cradled at the bottom, was a small ragdoll with red button eyes looking at him. Granted, it was cute, but was unnerving of how the small thing... looked a lot like its new owner.

"A little me? That's weird." He picked up the doll and looked at it closer. The details were rather accurate: his cooking uniform, his odd blue hair, his heather-colored skin, and the red button eyes. He pressed on the doll's belly and felt something like sand in it. He didn't know who thought that a seventeen-year-old Bergen should have a doll twin as a welcoming, but Dårlig had to admit that for something that was handmade, it was very neat.

"Well I suppose it would be rude to not accept such an anonymous gift." He shrugged and went to his room to rest the doll on his bed. "I probably shouldn't show it off to Feige," he chuckled. "She'll probably start debating on which good-looking Bergen to go with!"

He closed his bedroom door and headed to the kitchen to make dinner, unaware of the red buttons flashing an odd glow.


	3. Night For Cases

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 3: Night For Cases

Feige had only seen police stations in crime TV shows back when she and Dårlig still lived in Baltimore. She had never been to an actual one in real life.

The Hun Elite Police Station, or HEPS for short, was a mix of neither ugly nor relaxing. The walls were flat white, but not so white that it made you want to vomit. Everyone had a personal office that was personally customized, Feige had actually seen one with a pink coffee machine. Everything was tidy, the two jail cells both had zero rusted bars. There were still those posters about how whatever you committed was wrong, but at the same time they weren't humiliating you to death. It was like having the old Uncle Sam tell you 'I want you to think over what you did' rather than 'I want you to die in Hell'.

Sitting in Sheriff Shan-Yu's office was not as pleasant as the rest of the station. For one, the room had the invading scent of falcon feathers despite the lack of fowl presence, and there wasn't a single wall that wasn't one giant police board. It was like the sheriff liked to turn his medium-sized office into a spiderweb of suspects and victims, the only furniture available were his desk, the grey cabinets he kept in only one corner, the chair Feige sat on, and the weapons rack... excuse me, the _umbrella_ rack that held a crooked sword, an ax, and a crossbow.

"That's some office you have," Feige said.

Sheriff Shan-Yu nodded. He gruffly sat down on his desk and rubbed his half-bald head. One could guess that the cases he had did give the tough man stress.

"I'm sorry... Did I do something wrong?" Feige asked.

"No, of course not!" He shook his hand at sat upstraight. "It's just... people are disappearing! Yesterday's missing jewelry shop owner and now Sean Abyss's sister..."

"Did the victims know each other?" Feige asked.

"The family didn't even shop there," the sheriff shook his head. "However, I do know that both parties did at least _one_ trading with black market crooks. Some members of that underground society have disappeared, and the Huns have disregarded their society's complaints. At first, I was assuming that the crooks were just getting back at us by harming their former customers, but then you showed me these."

He put down the doll and the candy wraps and bent down to grab a yellow folder with red printed words on it. "Seven years ago, we had a case of missing children and one dangerous witch trying to attack her prey right before he turned thirteen," he explained while he let Feige look through the pages. "The Hun Elites stopped her and banished her before the boy could be killed, and yet he still disappeared. We gave up after three years of searching. Yet _you_ managed to find clues relating to that past case."

Feige grimaced in disgust when she saw the criminal profile of the child-killer that was Otrera Beldam. She looked like a teenager, roughly a year older than her, with black cracks covering her thin, porcelain face. Her dark hair was as dried up as dead cobwebs, and to go into the scary zone, she had arms and hands made of sewing needles and buttons for eyes. "Reminds me of the Other Mother from the Coraline movie," she said. "I saw it back in Baltimore."

The sheriff nodded. "The people of the 'real world dimension' think the Beldam is just a work of fiction, but in our dimension she and her daughter were part of the extinct species of the Aracdames. They were all confirmed dead, including the Beldam, until the Wonka-Beldam case proved to us that one monster, Otrera, managed to survive." He crossed his fingers. "Just the idea that she could have return and that _adults_ are disappearing along with children is bad news. And I'm hoping you could join us."

Feige nearly fell of her chair. "I'm sorry, Sheriff, but you must understand that I am highly unqualified. For one, I am an immigrant to Villainapolis and no expert in the ways of investigation, and I'm a Troll..."

"Who's about six feet tall, I know, but you found the clues in Naomi Abyss' room faster than any of my men, and they've been searching the house for the entire day!" He almost yelled but caught himself. He took a deep breath and spoke firmly. "Look, Miss... Come to think of it, what is your full name?"

"Feige Blomstroll."

"Right. Look, Miss Blomstroll. I'm highly aware that you immigrated to Villainapolis with a Bergen."

Feige froze. "If you're thinking about using Dårlig to blackmail me!" She got up her chair and used her hair to lasso his wrist.

"I'm not, I swear!" He protested. "But hear me out! It's known in the records that the Villainapolis population of same-gender species don't have a shine on your partner's, but if you assisted us in the investigation, not only could I ensure your finance so that you two can easily move from the immigrants' neighborhood to a better, permanent, residence, but we could provide governmental protection to both you and... Dårlig."

Feige said nothing. She released him from her hairy grasp. "I need to think over it and discuss the matter with Dårlig," she said firmly.

He nodded. "Two days. You know where our station is."

She walked out off the office, ignoring the grunts the sheriff made as he rubbed his wrists. She dodged the passing Huns and managed to find Sean in the waiting area, right when he got his cup of coffee from the vending machine.

"What did Sheriff Shan-Yu want from you?" He asked.

"He was wondering if I could help out in the investigation," she said, not wanting to press information further. "He's giving me two days to think it through and talk it out with Dårlig."

"I hope you'll say yes." Sean took a sad cup of coffee. "I can't believe this is the first time I miss Naomi."

"Don't you ever?"

"No." They sat down in the waiting chairs. "Since cecaelias are mostly females, only they have the most magical powers. Me and my cousin Mordred were both the eldest and the only boys in the family, so... you know... Our mothers preferred the sixteen girls with the most magic capacities, while the boys did all the chores... Still, I miss the sound of Naomi irritating me with her doll stories..."

"I'm sure they'll find her," she said. She then pulled something out of her hair. "I stole this from a document the sheriff was showing me. Does the kid in the center tell you anything?"

Sean looked at the picture. "Hey, I've seen that picture in an article. It was taken before the disappearance of Willywaffle Wonka. That kid is him."

"Have you ever met him?" Feige asked.

"I never personally interacted with him, but I knew stuff about him and his family. You see, after his dad gave up his first chocolate factory to some British boy, he moved to Villainapolis and created a new one. He even got one of my friends' mom to give him a fertility spell so that he could finally have an heir." He pointed at the factory that stood in the background of the picture. "That place is just south from here, at the very end of 10th Street. The picture was taken on the week of Willywaffle's 13th birthday. At that time, everybody at school was talking about how his dad wanted to start training him in the art of chocolatier business when Willywaffle turned thirteen."

"Until he disappeared," Feige said as she took back the picture. "Is his dad still in the factory?"

"He still runs the place, but with his son gone, he's been decreasing his candy production. Mrs. Hexe is good friends with him and she claims that such a loss put him in depression. Why the questions?"

"It... It may seem a bit weird, but before Dårlig and I moved to Villainapolis, we had... a sort of conflict with a bunch of Baltimore humans helping out another Troll... and one of the humans reminded me a whole lot of this kid, only older." She pointed her finger at the image. "Now I know it's crazy, because I know that if a human from that realm comes to this dimension, they'll rejuvenate to death..."

"Hey, that's a good point!" Sean grabbed the picture and looked at it again. "There's this dimensional rule that an alternate copy can only exist if another one lives. For example, if I were to exist in this dimension, that means one exists in the realm Baltimore is from!" His eyes beamed. "So if you saw a guy in Baltimore who looked like an older Willywaffle, that must mean that the one from Villainapolis must still be alive!" He shoved the picture back in Feige's hands. "Feige, you have to go to Wonka's factory and tell him! He'd want to know that his son is still out there!"

"But I still have to talk it out to Dårlig!" Feige protested.

"Do you ever do anything without that guy?" Sean rolled his eyes.

"That's our problem, not yours." She got up and left, hiding the photo in her hair.

 _Meanwhile_

Dårlig ran as fast as he could to the general store on the other side of the block. Feige still hadn't come home yet, which gave him time to start taking out ingredients to make dinner until he realized he was missing honeydew syrup, which is why he headed to the Tweedy General Store.

"I only need a good galleon or something," he told the man at the cashier booth.

"Whatever." The man shrugged, too busy with solving his sudoku than tending to the few customers he had inside his store. "Go to Aisle 5."

Dårlig grunted. _At least he's not rude because I'm a Bergen_ , he thought to himself as he walked into Aisle 5. Finding honeydew syrup wasn't so hard since they categorized everything in the aisle in alphabetical order and they only sold honeydew syrup in giant bottles they put only on top of water fountains. His muscles had enough experience to carry this 300-pound baby in his arms.

Paying, however, was going to take far longer. While Dårlig was busy holding up his syrup, the cashier was busy doing business with some teenager guy and a rolled up Persian market.

"40 blights?" The man at the register exclaimed. "Last time you said it would only be twenty!"

"Oh, I did, but that was before a Northern District aristocrat offered to double up the payment. I mean, can you blame him? This is purely exotic and with the sales for the upcoming Equinox Festival..." The teenager sighed before picking up something from behind the carpet: a crate of six bottles. Judging by the color and tagged picture of a drunken tree, Dårlig assumed it was alcoholic.

"Look, perhaps we can rearrange this little mix up," the teenager said as he placed the crate before the cashier. "I already have to pay like 18 blights for this, but I can easily give you 20. You could take _that_ and add in the original twenty blights you owed me. That way, you get the Persian carpet your mom always wanted for Mother's day, and I leave with the alcohol."

"So I'm using your money and mine to pay for the carpet?" He then smiled deal. "Sounds legit. Thanks!"

Dårlig gasped at the monetary exchange, especially when the trader just took back his money after the cashier gave him the twenty blights. He scowled in disgust. All the trader had done was swindling the cashier by making him think he was still paying half when in reality, the trader tricked him into returning him the money he paid for the store product!

"Oh, she'll be happy when she sees it!" The cashier stepped out of his stand so that he could grab the Persian carpet and drag it to the door leading to the employees' lockers.

"Yeah, give her my regards!" The trader snickered to himself before taking the crate and walking off. The wind from outside blew into his patched trench coat, revealing the belt with the black pearls stitched to it to form the word WILL.

Dårlig gasped. His surroundings blurred and he found himself imagining himself back in the alley, only with a dozen copies of the old black market crook man with bleeding empty eye sockets, all of them marching towards Dårlig like mummies and repeating constantly. " _Warn Will... at the Crooked Mill._ "

 _Later_

"Warn Will at the Crooked Mill," Dårlig muttered as he unlocked the door of the apartment and stepped inside. "What does it mean?"

"Dårlig? Are you home?"

Dårlig smiled. Finally something to stir him away from all his troubling thoughts! He walked into the kitchen and instantly put the honeydew syrup bottle on the counter. His arms instantly got squeezed by Feige hugging him.

"I missed you," she said.

"So have I," he smiled through his constricted breath. She then let him go. "And just in time. I was about to make some salmon soup for dinner."

She sighed. "My favorite. Dårlig, you shouldn't have!"

"Too late," he said in a singsong voice. "Say, could you set up the counter? It's going to take a while to make the soup."

"Sure thing." Feige started pulling out the drawers and taking out utensils. "So how was the first day at the Brewing Cupcake?"

"Mixed." Dårlig chopped through the fish, separated the flesh from the bones, and dunked the stuff into two separate pots sitting on the flaming stove. "The good part is that I was treated well for my hard work and I actually got to meet a local blind philanthropist. The bad part is that my mother's responsible for the same-gender species citizens in Villainapolis."

"What did she do this time?" Feige rolled her eyes as she opened the fridge. She had never been a fan of the woman.

"You're gonna laugh. Apparently I had an ancestor who was a monster hunter killing child-murdering spider witches, and when mother dear was in town while one of the freaks was committing murder, everyone was like 'Why didn't your ancestor finish the job? No, why didn't you do it?'" He poured in ten cups of honeydew syrup into the pot holding the fish bones, creating a sizzling effect while he tended to the green vegetables that needed vicious dicing. "What about you? How was the babysitting?"

"I couldn't babysit... One of Sean's sisters went missing... And..." She stopped pouring the apple cider into the cups and rested her hands on the counter.

Dårlig stopped cutting the bok choy when he saw her expression. "Feige, you have the same guilt look you had when you broke Mr. Darwin's dragon vase and Chef threatened to eat you," he said firmly before asking sharply. "What happened?"

"I..." Feige blurted out the facts. "I found evidence on Sean's sister's disappearance faster than the Hun Elites could and now the sheriff is giving me two days to decide whether or not I should join them in investigating the disappearances! He even offered a financial raise and a better residence if I complied, but I said I'd have to talk to you about it first!" She took several deep breaths and looked back at Dårlig.

Frustration bit him. "Damn it," he grumbled.

"Look, I personally don't want to get involved, but if the financial raise could help us improve our life here faster..."

"Feige, I worry about the money-handling here, but you could get hurt in these cases!" He bit his lip in sorrow. "What if you disappear as well and I... I end alone without my one true friend?"

"Dårlig!" She grabbed him by the hand. "We'll always be together no matter what!" She then spun him out of the kitchen and into the big space, bringing him to a smile.

Feige: _Come now, you know me better than that._

 _We've known each other from the start._

 _You and I make quite a team_

 _With the brains and heart._

Dårlig: _I'm just one Bergen_

 _But with you I feel so much more._

Feige: _We work like apples and pie._

 _We make each other soar._

Feige's paintings came to life to fill the house with colors, turning the place into one giant living scrapbook.

Feige: _My Bergen companion for infinity!_

Dårlig: _My Troll friend since the infancy!_

Both: _We function best when we're together_

 _There's nothing we can't accomplish without one another._

 _Friends and lovers can do so much, but when combined_

 _You and I are one of a kind._

They jumped on rainbow mushrooms like trampolines that exploded into glitter fireworks after each pounce.

Dårlig: _You know, life wouldn't be the same_

 _If you weren't there for me._

 _I'd probably be stuck in my cage_

 _Until you set me free._

Feige: _What's the point of singing and dancing_

 _If you can't do it with the one you love?_

Dårlig: _Just being together since forever_

 _Makes me believe I can go above!_

They jumped into a volcano that erupted with bubbles instead of lava. The soapy orbs floated into space with Dårlig and Feige dancing on top of them.

Both: _My companion for infinity!_

 _My friend since the infancy!_

 _We're like comrades forged with fire_

 _By working together, we go higher._

 _We don't need to fear or eat each other_

 _Because we function best when we're together!_

The bubbles then exploded and dropped them into a stage of Bollywood dancers dancing under a rainbow of flying butterflies.

Feige: _My Bergen companion._

Dancers: _He's quite the companion._

Dårlig: _My Troll friend._

Dancers: _She's quite the friend._

Feige: _We're as grand as a canyon._

Dancers: _They're as grand as a canyon._

Dårlig: _No gold could make me so contend!_

Dancers: _Only she can make him contend!_

Dårlig and Feige: _Is there anything we can't defy?_

Dancers: _I can't think of any!_

The dancers and butterflies disappeared, leaving the duo to dance alone while the atmosphere around them turned into a night full of stars, giving lights in the dark.

Both: _You and I are one of a kind._

 _Without you, I may have been too blind_

 _To see how much I can accomplish_

 _When we are each other's accomplice._

 _One of a kind may be hard,_

 _But having you is better than being alone and scarred._

 _We function best when we're together_

 _There's nothing we can't accomplish without one another._

 _Because we're one of a kind!_

Bergen and Troll eyes were locked between each other while the atmosphere of stars grinded back to reality's apartment. Fingers crossed, lips just barely separated by two inches...

A clapping was then heard. Dårlig and Feige turned to see Genny Kowalski leaning on the doorway and clapping at way. "How long have you been there?" Feige asked.

"More like how she got in," Dårlig pointed out and let go of Feige.

"You guys got so distracted by your friendship-is-magic duet, you didn't hear me ring the doorbell and you forgot to lock the door." Genny followed them in the kitchen. "By the way, song was good. Though I fail to understand how you were capable of breaking the laws of physics to turn the environment into a singing scrapbook."

"It's a Troll thing." Feige shrugged. "Would you like to stay for dinner? Dårlig's making salmon soup."

" _Made_ salmon soup." To make his point, Dårlig kicked on a cabinet, thus popping its door open and causing three bowls to fall out. Dårlig lifted his leg up and used it to create a landing spot for the bowls. After pouring soup in each of them, Feige used her hair to leash the three bowls and bring them up to the kitchen counter. Meanwhile, Genny looked in amazement at the entire scene, which concluded with Dårlig dicing some cilantro and brushing them evenly right into the bowls. "Soup's in."

"Wow, you guys make a spectacular duo." Genny tasted some of the soup and widened her eyes in pleasure. "Seriously, this is delicious! Have you ever thought of opening up your own restaurant?"

"Well we _did_ dream of having our own diner," Feige sighed, "but then Dårlig's mom had to ruin everything."

"What did she do?" Genny asked Dårlig. The young Bergen said nothing. He didn't even look at the girls while he took care of cleaning up the kitchen, but his expression made it evident that he didn't want to talk about it. Instead, Feige gave a quick explanation.

"Cooking and knife-battling were the only things put on him by his heritage," she said. "He was still a kid when his mom forced him to be a kitchen rugrat and cook for anyone that wasn't him, and if it wasn't cooking, it was how to handle knives or any cooking tool that could be weaponized."

"Like training a puppy into the military," Genny determined.

"Point is, she wouldn't even let him be happy at something _she herself_ liked, and since we spent most of the next years of our lives working around in the kitchen of somebody we didn't like... I mean, what would be the point of us opening up a diner if we have no joy in doing so?"

"But Dårlig just worked at the Brewing Cupcake today and he didn't have any problem." Genny then changed the subject and told Dårlig: "I heard you got shined on by Madleb Arerto."

"Oh yeah, she was awfully nice!" Dårlig stopped scrubbing the pots to give away a smile. "I can't believe how one blind philanthropist can make an impact on anyone who meets her!"

"I know! Having her for a connection is like... huge!"

Genny and Dårlig laughed about it, unaware that Feige kept frowning at them. For one, she had no idea who this 'Madleb' was and she didn't understand why she felt unpleasant when hearing about her. Either because she was the last to be informed about it or because the sentiment went to sour at the part of her Bergy Wuggy being shined on.

"Feige, I heard from Sean that the sheriff of the Hun Elites would like you to join them in their investigations," Genny said. "You know they pay amateur detectives very well. And you managed to link today's case with one that dates from seven years ago!"

"About that..." Feige pulled out the photo of the Wonka Clan and showed them to Genny and Dårlig, who took turns looking at it while she explained to them to details.

"And then when I told Sean that the Willywaffle Wonka in the photo looked like one of the humans that Princess Gladiola befriended back in Baltimore, he said it could mean that due to dimensional rules, Willywaffle Wonka should be alive."

Dårlig rubbed his chin. "Not too idiotic. After all, the human who befriended the Troll princess was named Willy, and from what I heard back in the deli of Mr. Darwin, he hates candy and has issues with his father. It would make sense if he had a parallel universe clone who happened to be Willy Wonka's son. But what does it have to do with the disappearances of a jewelry shop owner and a seven-year-old?"

"A button-eyed ragdoll of Sean's sister and a dozen paper wraps of Wonka's Everlasting Gobstoppers were found under her bed," Feige said, "and the Huns suspect that Otrera Beldam is returning _and_ aiming adults." She turned to Genny. "Do you think I should reach out to Willy Wonka?"

"If there's a possibility that his son is alive and possibly in danger, he'll want to know." Genny nodded. "I can drive you to the factory tomorrow morning."

"Feige... it could be dangerous..." Dårlig said crossly. She merely rolled her eyes and walked over to him, wrapped her arms over his shoulders and looked at him fondly.

"I'll be fine," she told him with reassurance. "I learned a lot from you on how to take care of myself. _You_ , on the other hand, must worry of your job at the Brewing Cupcake."

Dårlig gave a small smile. _Yeah, I have a lot to worry about._

 _The next day_

Dårlig left the apartment sooner than usual. His shift was starting at the same time as yesterday, but under the last stars remaining in the sky, the Bergen boy followed the path the tramway had taken to drop him off at the Brewing Cupcake. His eyes looked from left to right as he walked.

He stopped when he noticed a presence spotting him in a nearby alley. "You can come out now," he said, not even knowing who he was talking to.

The figure stepped out of the alley. Unlike the first two black market crooks he had encountered so far, this one was a teenage girl dressed in a huge dark purple trench coat and matching flats. A white scarf hid the bottom half of her face, dark sunglasses rested on her eyes, and a black Fedora was giving more shade to her orange hair and lavender skin. A black pearl bead was seen on the ring she wore on her left index. Judging by how the girl was dressed in nice clothing that hid her so well, Dårlig could assume that she didn't want the whole world to know that she came from the underground.

"Only customers who seek information come out right before dawn." She tipped her hat. "Call me Nora. How can I assist you and at what price?"

Dårlig pulled out a small fist-sized pouch from his satchel and showed her its content: grinded remains of the twelve Troll gemstones he and Feige had used to escape their previous life. "How about a tablespoon of those grinded Troll gemstones?"

Nora nodded. She pulled out a test tube from her coat's pocket and discreetly put a tablespoon's worth of grinded Troll gemstones in it. "What kind of information are you looking for?"

"I got confronted by one of your black market crook peers yesterday. He died right in the alley after telling me 'Warn Will at the Crooked Mill'. Does a guy named Will ring a bell and where can I find him?"

Nora placed the test tube in her pocket and grimaced. "Came for the big game, huh? Our guy Will is by far the best con artist in the Villainapolis Black Market. Not even the rich people are safe from his swindling. The guy's been a criminal since he became a teen and the Huns have always been unable to catch him; Will's like a slippery eel that eludes your greasy fingers."

"I should have guessed." Dårlig mused. His mind flashed back to the store when he saw the black market crook tricking the vendor with the Persian market. So that was Will.

"The authorities think he's a menace, but the rest of the black market see him as a saint," Nora continued. "One quarter of his daily gains, he trades to the ones who don't have it as easy as him. The thieves and murderers treat him like the king of the forty-thieves."

"That answers a lot," he grumbled. "So where do I find him? I mean, assuming that the Crooked Mill..."

"Is his living space." Nora nodded. She pointed a finger, telling him to follow her up the alley's fire escape. Once they reached the roof, where they could see the sun faintly beginning to rise on the bay, she indicated him to the west. She showed him something that looked like it was curling up the way flower petals do when they wither. After a better squint, it was revealed to be a windmill with an awful curve that was being covered by mist.

"The Crooked Mill is in the part of Villainapolis that's known as the Stone Foundation, which was where Villainapolis first started in colonial days until it got modernized," Nora explained. "The Stone Foundation is like a Court of Miracles for black market crooks. With a maze of stone alleys and a mist to cover up their heads, it's the one place in Villainapolis that the police won't dare to step in. Customers get lost easily unless they carry a ticket."

"What kind of ticket?" Dårlig asked.

"Oysters holding black pearls. I can give you a name of contacts who deliberately sell black pearl-casing oysters. All you'd have to do is keep the oyster on you and anyone from the black market will know that you want to go to the Stone Foundation. They'll register the pearl and you'll be in their den. The Crooked Mill is right at the heart of Stone Foundation, so it shouldn't be hard to miss."

"And will I find Will there? Suppose I want to see him after I'm done with work?"

Nora shook her head. "Will's slippery, like I told you. He handles business so well, nobody knows at what time he comes back to the Mill. But we do know that he usually comes out around eight in the morning before doing his job."

Dårlig nodded. "I got nothing this Saturday. I'll give him a little visit. Thank you for doing business."

"Anytime." They went back down the fire escape and into the street. "Oh. Could you not tell anyone that you saw me, please?"

Dårlig frowned. "Why would I tell anyone that I saw you?"  
"Don't spread the tale, but my folks have no idea that I'm a part-time black market crook," Nora admitted with guilt. "They think I'm taking nighttime classes to catch up on algebra, but I'm actually trying to make cash to save on art school."

Dårlig nodded. Nora tilted her hat and disappeared into the shadows of the alley. Dårlig saw the time on the nearest electronic billboard. He still had enough time to go find himself the nearest seafood store in the neighborhood before his shift started.


	4. Factory Cousins

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 4: Factory Cousins

Immigrants in Villainapolis learn very quickly during their first weeks in the city. The first major thing they learn is that when it comes to settling down permanently, the neighborhood at the end of 10th Street is **NOT** the perfect place. It was the city's main industrial neighborhood, where all the factories were installed and the employees got the worst salaries, making 10 to 15 blights an hour, the equivalent of hardly 5 human dollars.

Each of the six blocks that formed the neighborhood had buildings glued to each other as if somebody came up with the idea of invisible cement that could stick titanium-strong factories or weak brick warehouses. The crummy apartment buildings that stuck occasionally between a factory and a warehouse were just narrow enough to replace an alley. Smoke constantly came out from the industrial chimneys, coughing its way up to sky and not even the residents could tell if it was regular smoke or grey-colored clouds among the blue sky, which made it harder to tell if it was going to rain though your weather app told you otherwise.

The moment Feige and Genny arrived just outside the neighborhood (Genny refused to park her car in the place, so they had to walk from the parking spot all the way to the factory), they had to put on breathing masks. Later, Feige understood why. With the constant smokes coughing from every manufacturing area, locals and workers could get sick. She was even shocked when she saw some children waiting until they got inside a school bus to remove their masks.

"This place makes Sean's neighborhood look sympathetic. Why on earth would anyone live under such conditions?" Feige asked in disgust.

"Not everyone can have it sweet here just like in any other city," Genny said. "There are those who thrive in good careers and then there are those who need to butt off in factories that gives them hardly anything." She pointed up ahead. Right at the end of the street, where it literally ended, stood a massive grey factory that stood up to the others like a palace. When the girls got to the factory's main gate, the words WONKA'S CHOCOLATE FACTORY screamed right at them in grey metal letters.

"Funny. For a guy who's into chocolate and candy, I thought it would be more... colorful." Feige looked skeptically at the building that stood before them, threatening to squash them if it became sentient.

Genny found the buzzer and pushed it. " _Wonka's Chocolate Factory, how may we assist_?" The operator asked.

"Hi. We may have found out that Mr. Wonka's son is still alive and..."

Genny couldn't finish her sentence. A trapdoor popped open right underneath their feet and the girls fell in. They screamed as they slid down a tunnel that twisted in all directions while constantly changing neon colors.

"I usually love rainbows, but this is RIDICULOOOOOOOOOUS!" Feige screamed.

A circular opening popped open and the girls landed in a dark mint office. Their butts landed right into two red velvet chairs that faced a chocolate brown desk. The chair behind the desk turned, revealing the sitter to be an old man with gray hair cut into a bob, his velvet trench coat dusty, his high top hat wrinkled, and his latex gloved hands clutching on the tip of his cane.

"Where. Is. My. Son?" He demanded.

Feige scowled at him before saying sarcastically. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wonka. How are you doing? Is this how you normally treat your guests?" She pointed at the opening behind them.

Mr. Wonka frowned when he saw her. His mouth dropped slowly before clenching his teeth and grabbing his cane, threatening to hit Feige with it at any wrong move. "You're a Troll! A _giant_ Troll! Did Peppy send you? As karma?" He demanded.

"What? No! I don't even serve him! Trust me, I am nothing like the other Trolls... Hang on, how do you the former Troll king?"

Wonka lowered his cane. "Wait... Peppy is no longer the prince?"

"You knew Peppy as a prince? Like, back in the days when Bergens used to eat Trolls?"

"Bergens no longer eat Trolls?" Wonka dropped back in his seat, his hands letting go off the cane. "I must be in a parallel universe..."

"Um, sir?" Feige tried to be as patient as possible. "Let's make it even: you tell me how you know the Troll royalty and I tell you about your son. Deal?"

The man nodded and sat back upstraight. He sighed, looking ashamed for some reason.

"It was a really long time ago... perhaps sixty-years ago. I was traveling the worlds, searching for new ingredients or inspirations to make even more fabulous and tastier candy. One day, I was in a peculiar forest and I was observing its perimeters when my telescope got me a sight of an oddly gray town where grey ogres kept tiny colorful creatures in a tree in a cage..."

"That must have been back in the days when Bergens still kept Trolls in captivity until they'd eat them in Trollstice!" Feige looked at Genny.

"Indeed." Wonka continued. "I was so fascinated by how these tiny colorful creatures in the distance looked oddly positive despite being in a cage, and I can assure you, I've seen deadly bored caged canaries. So in the middle of the night, while everyone was asleep, I snuck into the town and got close enough to the cage. That was how I met the Trolls. Prince Peppy was the first one to have reached out to me. 'Why are you trapped here?' I asked. He told me that tomorrow morning, the town's citizens would gather to eat some of his people selected by the royal chef. 'Why don't you escape? Even the space between the bars is big enough for many of you to go through,' I said.

"'Even if we did, the Bergens would just find us!' 'Then come with me. I could sneak you out of the city'..."

"Yeah, I'm guessing this is the part where Chef and her cooks caught you in the act, they captured you, and she made you an offer that you couldn't refuse that led you to turn back on the one you made to Peppy," Feige said, raising an eyebrow.

"Pretty much. How did you know?"

"Let's just say that when your dad betrays his own species so that Chef could spare his life... is like watching at least ten thousand movies with the exact same plotline." The Troll girl shrugged. She reached in her hair and pulled out one of the Everlasting Gobstopper wrappers she had found back in Sean's house and the photo. The moment she put them on the table, Wonka immediately grabbed the picture. "Willywaffle... I left this photo to the Huns when they filed up his disappearance..."

"Yeah, uh... Shan Yu doesn't know I took it from him." Feige want on to explain a great deal of things to Mr. Wonka. The disappearances, the clues she had 'randomly' found under the bed of Ursula's daughter, the sheriff connecting Naomi's disappearance with the one of Willywaffle Wonka seven-years-ago... "And since Sean told me about the rules of parallel universes, we assumed that if I saw an older version of your son living in the real world dimension, then that would mean the one from here must still be alive."

"My son is still alive..." Mr. Wonka gasped. "After seven years..."

"Out of curiosity, Mr. Wonka, what were the circumstances that would make Otrera Beldam attack Willywaffle right on the eve of his thirteenth birthday?" Genny asked. "Aracdames were known to prey on emotional children up to the age of twelve."

"I don't know why she ever decided to attack him right before he turned thirteen." He shook his head while his eyes looked miserably at the photo. "I don't even know if my son disappeared because of the attack or if he ran away primarily because we argued on that day."

"You two argued?"

"Yes. You see, as an extremely big present for my son, I was planning on taking my son with me on his birthday to sign the papers that would declare him the next-one-in-line to run my factory after my death. I told him about it the day before, but he wasn't happy about it."

"He didn't want to run the chocolate factory?" Feige asked.

"Well, not _mine_. He did grow up to love candy as much as I did from the consumption to the fabrication. He used to tell me that he'd love to be a chocolatier like I was, but what I failed to realize until we had our argument was that he meant 'going to explore', 'hunting for ingredients', and 'see the world's inspirations that would make his own candy out of scratch'. He wanted to explore to make his own chocolate business... rather than just run the family one.

"He locked himself up in his room and refused to speak to me until tomorrow. After he purposely skipped lunch, I asked one of the employees to bring him over his dinner and an apology letter that I wrote. Next thing I knew, my factory got invaded by Hun Elites who claimed that Otrera Beldam's recent child hunting pattern was targeting my factory, and then the servant ran back screaming at me that a metal human spider was harming my son.

"We broke the door to Willywaffle's room and we found Otrera Beldam trying to force buttons onto my son's eyes. Knowing her species, she must have goaded him with temptations that would allow him to surrender, but since she was attacking him, it was obvious that Willywaffle refused to let her sew buttons into his eyes. She kept pulling him into her clutches until I was able to pull him away from her. Since she was dragging him by the ankles, her metal needle fingers scarred him.

"The Huns apprehended Otrera. While my son was being taken care off in a hospital, I attended the trial where Otrera was sentenced to exile. She hissed and claimed that she'd return, but nobody believed. And then when I returned to the hospital, Willywaffle was gone. I asked everyone at the hospital, but nobody saw him leave. I asked everyone in the neighborhood and this one, but no one saw. The Hun Elites couldn't find him and even the black market crooks had no idea where he went!" He calmed down and turned to look at Feige. "But if what you say is true, my son may be just as alive!"

"OK, but even if he's still alive, why did he decide to not return home?" Feige got up. "If he was saved and Otrera got exiled, shouldn't he have stayed home with his family?"

"Otrera broke into his room. Aracdames usually drag their preys _away_ from home." Genny pointed out. "Maybe he ran away from home because he feared that he wouldn't be safe after the incident."

 _Earlier today, in the Crooked Foundation Stone Foundation_

Morning rays of sun slipped through the broken windows of the Crooked Mill and reflected right into colorful piles of glass bottles. As the rays widened, the glass bottles that hung on the willow tree that grew from the second floor of the ancient building spread their shattered rainbow. One of the broken pink lights hit the bed in the third floor.

One would have to be crazy enough to sleep in the same floor of a spinning shaft, but since the Crooked Mill had lost its purpose throughout the city's evolution, it no longer functioned the traditional way. Instead, it became the home of someone who just wanted a roof to sleep and live under.

Will, the con artist who unknowingly got spotted by Dårlig, grumbled as the light hit him in the face. He kicked off the purple Romanian drape he used as a blanket and got up from the pathetic peasant mattress he slept on.

"Morning, master. Annual bath ready." A small human, barely high enough to reach Will's knees even with his masses of upright black hair, was waiting for him by a large wooden tub, which the creature was filling up by pouring boiling water from a bucket.

"Thanks." Since Will didn't have any PJs to sleep in, he instantly went in the tub. He screamed the moment his skin touched the water. "Burning!"

"Loom spend all night fetching water from well and boiling it for master to bathe after he wakes," the creature said. "Annual bath important. Loom go get soap." The creature slid down the wooden ladder leading through the other two floors, taking the bucket with him. Will groaned in exasperation, but decided to take the opportunity to rub himself with the inconveniently hot water. It stung him everywhere, the feet area the worst. He brought up his left foot and stared at the stinging area. His ankle, bearing horrible white scars. Scars so thin and sharp, it was like a lion had scratched him with knives for claws. Scars that his right ankle also bared but were currently hidden by the water.

Loom came back with the soap and a sponge. When he saw his master staring at his ankle, he lost his smile to a sadder expression. "Seven years came. Master's birthday coming sooner than expected. Can't we go back home?"

Will sighed. He didn't say anything and let Loom do the scrubbing with the soap and sponge. "You know I can't go back, Loom. Even behind the factory's security, I wasn't safe. After they failed to protect me when I was a kid..."

"Wonka and Huns win and mean witch go bye-bye from city," Loom pointed out as he scrubbed the back of the young man's neck.

"Adults were useless." Will said. "It is more important to survive than live." He sighed. "If you want to go back to the factory with the other Oompa- Loompas, you can..."

The Oompa-Loompa shook his head. "Loom loyal to master! Master kind to Loom since Loom born in the factory! Loom sacrifice anything to keep master from loneliness! If master not return to factory, then Loom stays!"

 _Back to later, in the factory_

Feige and Genny were given a quick free tour of the chocolate factory as a small thank from Wonka concerning his son. Now the author doesn't have to remind the readers of the wonder stuff the factory held (they can easily remember the stuff from the movie adaptations), but what the author can tell you is that the girls were marveled by how the colorful magic behind the chocolate-making contrasted the grey atmosphere of the 10th Street neighborhood. For Genny, it was something that defied every scientific rule she had learned, but for Feige, it was the discovery of the employees.

"Oompa-Loompas and Trolls are cousins?!" She exclaimed when she got introduced to two Oompa-Loompas while Mr. Wonka was showing the girls the famous chocolate room and the two small creatures instantly ran at her, shouting 'Cousin!'

"Cousin species, to be exact," Mr. Wonka said with a smile. "Granted, the size differences and the Trolls' far more colorful pigmentation question the relationship between the Trolls and the Oompa-Loompas, but both species are awfully small in human perspectives and both are known for joyful moods, singing, and dancing."

"Present for cousin!" One of the Oompa-Loompas pulled something out of his uniform's pockets and showed it to Feige. She bent down to have a better, fascinated look at the candy. It looked like a star made of eight colorful crystals, small enough to rest in the Oompa-Loompa's palm. They then started to glow, turning the candy into a rainbow emergency light show.

"Cool candy," she smiled.

"Uh, Feige?" Genny nervously pointed at Feige, who looked down at the aimed direction and yelped. Her navel was glowing as well.

"It never did that before!" She covered her navel in embarrassment. After covering it for a good thirty seconds, she removed her hands. The glowing continued.

"Incredible!" Mr. Wonka took the glowing candy from the Oompa-Loompa. "The Troll gemstones from the Everlasting Gobstopper must be reacting to the Troll gemstone you have on your tummy!"

Feige's eyes widened and her head robotically went up. "I'm sorry... Did you say that the candy... has _Troll gemstones_?"

"What's the deal on Troll gemstones?" Genny asked.

"My dad told me that Troll gemstones were the seeds that created the Troll Tree that Trolls first came from. They're like... the original source of happiness, the fuel that brings Trolls the endless happy nature they have!" Feige explained. "Twelve navel Troll gemstones from twelve female Trolls were the key ingredient in the potion that Dårlig and I drank, the one that gave me my giant size. I guess the consumption gave me a side effect." She turned to Wonka. "The offer that Chef gave you... She gave you Troll gemstones, didn't she?"

He nodded. "She said that Troll gemstones were useless in the Bergens' feastings on Trolls. She claimed that the moment a Troll was eaten, the Bergen would just spit out the navel jewel. And when some tried to eat the navel jewels by cutting it off from Trolls, they were just flavorless rocks. Chef gave me an entire bag full of tiny gemstones. 'Good enough for the belly of one thousand Trolls,' she told me. 'Better to experiment on that than waste time on full bodies that can spoil.'"

"Bribed by jewels," Genny said in disgust. "Why is it so common for people to be taken away by money and jewels?"

"And you managed to industrialize the Troll gemstones into this?" Feige pointed at the Everlasting Gobstopper.

"Three months spent on research with my eyes glued on the microscope," he said with a nod. "When it seemed like I was getting nowhere, I got into my glass elevator and dunked the entire bag's content onto Mt Fudge in anger. Three days later, an Oompa-Loompa comes to tell me that they sensed something off while they were digging in the chocolate mountain. I joined them in their digging and what we found was incredible! In three days, the Troll gemstones had sunk deep into the mountain to create an underground cavern full of beautiful colorful crystals the size of baseball bats! I took tiny samples of each crystal, and after some physical testing, I discovered that they made flavors that never stopped once they went into your mouth!"

"And you created the Everlasting Gobstoppers," Genny grinned. "Candies that could never lose flavor!"

"Never?" Feige arched an eyebrow.

"Rita had one once and she managed to still have it in her mouth for a year!" Genny nodded.

"It is a miracle." Wonka nodded. "Of course, the Troll gemstones proliferate very quickly when mined, that's why I usually select the best, ripest ones to make the Gobstoppers. For those that are not well-tended or overripe, I sell them away."

"How do you _sell_ Troll gemstones?" Feige asked in disbelief.

"You'd be surprised how many people in Villainapolis mistake Troll gemstones as simple gemstones or diamonds. Aside from my chocolatier business, I have succeeded in making the most money by selling overripe Troll gemstones to the Villainapolis upper-class, celebrities, and jewelers."

"Jewelers?" Feige rubbed her chin and got back up again. "Would it be possible to have a list of all the people in Villainapolis that you sold Troll gemstones to? Hopefully I'm wrong, but it might help us in the investigation."

"Why would you hope to be wrong?" Genny asked.

"A mall jewelry shop owner disappears along with every sellable product in the store, then a little girl who has been playing with a button-eye clone and eating a large amount of Gobstoppers... All of this happening seven years after a button-eyed witch tried to eat the kid of the guy who not makes Gobstoppers but also makes them out of Troll gemstones that he also sells away as jewelry material. Things seem to come together in one inner circle."

 _Meanwhile, at the Brewing Cupcake_

"And here is your order to go," Mrs. Hexe gave a friendly look to her customer as she handed him his box full of cupcakes. She kept running in and out of the kitchen, bringing orders for the clients that were mobbing the shop and requesting to take it with them. Back in the kitchen, Dårlig was working as fast as he could to get the pastries ready while Mrs. Hexe's sister used a spell to make the dish cleaning go a whole lot faster. It was only around 2pm that they finally ran out of baking ingredients, leading them to closing the shop for the day.

"This is insane!" Dårlig dropped on the floor. His skin was sweating from the heat he had endured via ovens and stoves. "Is there some kind of national sports game going on?"

The back door knocked. Mrs. Hexe's sister got up and went to open the door. After paying the passing newspaper boy, she closed the door and came back with a newspaper at hand. "Well there's the answer," she said. "Kory Lokisia is throwing a concert next weekend."

"Kory who?" Dårlig was confused.

"A teenager pop sensation at Villainapolis," Mrs. Hexe said. "She used to go to the same school as Ingwer until she went into the singing industry. Kids just _love_ her music."

"Says here that she finally finished her Dark Shooting Star Tour at Eviladelphia and that until her next tour is announced, she'll be doing charity concerts and contribute half of the ticket earnings to the local community shelters," her sister nodded.

Mrs. Hexe grabbed a piece of paper and started writing things down. "Good thing the market's open today. I won't risk my skin in a mobbing supermarket." She turned to her sister. "Could you keep an eye on the shop? Dårlig and I will go do the grocery shopping at the market."

The sister grumbled and tossed away her magazine. After washing his hands and rolling down his sleeves, Dårlig followed Mrs. Hexe. She handed him a bag of groceries while she proceeded to whip her apron until it became a purple trench coat. They went out to back alley. Dårlig grimaced in disgust when he spotted another rat trying to scurry away from them.

"Out of the way, you foul vermin!" Mrs. Hexe pointed a finger at the rodent. A pink bolt of lightning grinded the thing into a pile of peppers.

"Very good aim, ma'am!" Dårlig applauded as they headed to the street.

"I never liked rats," Mrs. Hexe shrugged.

"Same here." The young Bergen thought back to when he had hit one with a pry bar last night.

"You know, rats used to be the spying servants of Aracdames," she said. "If you saw a rat in the alley, that meant it's mistress was in the city, but you saw a full colony, the witch was nearby. I used to tell my little Ingwer that if she ever misbehaved, the rodents would rat her off and the Aracdame would take her away from home."

"Right." Dårlig said nothing else afterwards, not wanting to remember that his first three days in Villainapolis involved same-gender species scorning him. The cruelty it was to imagine that his ancestor was a respected monster hunter who got his legacy spoiled because his descendant, Chef, didn't live up to the expectations. _Sucks to be you_ , Dårlig's inner conscience mocked.

They walked all the way to this large roundabout five streets away from the Brewing Cupcake. Multiple stands were placed, selling diverse objects from freshly picked produce and fresh meat to interior decoration items like black clay pots and dreamcatchers made of seashell shards. As they went from merchant to merchant, Mrs. Hexe only took one item per type that they needed. To Dårlig, it didn't look enough.

"Are you sure that one bag of flour will suffice?" He asked while Mrs. Hexe gave five blights to the baker who sold bags full of milk white flour.

"You don't honestly believe that I waste my money on a delivery truck, do you?" Mrs. Hexe laughed as if he were joking. "I'm a witch, Dårlig. If I need cocoa beans to store up in my shop, all I need to do is buy one authentic bag of cocoa beans and use a spell to create duplicates. Not only do I save money, but I avoid overloading."

"Smart tactic," he commented. He turned his head around to see the other stands in the area. "Say, do you know where I can purchase oysters? I'm thinking of making a seafood dinner for Feige when I get back home." OK, technically it was a lie. He really needed to find an oyster holding a black pearl to get his way into the Stone Foundation. But then again, he could always buy extra to make the actual dish.

Mrs. Hexe gave him a big smile as they moved to a stand of Eastern spices. "Your Troll friend is awfully lucky. It's not everyday one sees a Bergen pushing up his limits to please his different species girlfriend."

Dårlig blushed and tried to hide it by pretending to smell out the different pots of purple honey. "Feige and I haven't exactly gotten the chance to date yet. I mean... I guess one could say that the proof of us going past the friend zone goes back a couple years, but... you know, size issues..."

The candy witch nodded as she went on to open the cans and sniff through them to determine which went back and which ones would she bring over to the vendor. "Love is hard when you're evil, it's harder when it's of two different species, and triple challenging when it's the two of them. My sister and I for instance are married to two ogre brothers."

Dårlig whistled. "Wow! The house must smell the doubled odor of belching ogres!"

"They mostly eat, watch TV, and sleep. I hardly see them do anything else. And it gets challenging with our children. When a child is born of two different species, you never know what parental side will affect them. My sister's son is still a baby but he already displays his father and uncle's sense of appetites, but my daughter Ingwer is an angel. She managed to harmonize her talents in magic while also trying to watch her hunger."

The Bergen boy nodded quietly before finally asking. "How exactly does it work when... same-gender species mate? Last time I checked, Ingwer and Sean both come from same-gender species and I'm guessing Ingwer's paternal ogre country is mostly male."

"That is an excellent question you are asking here, Dårlig." Mrs. Hexe paid the vendor and the two moved on to the next stand. "As you know, when we say same-gender, it doesn't necessarily mean that it's all one gender, but that the majority will be one gender and that majority will be the most gifted. It may seem rather pompous and hypocritical, but most of the time a same-gender species will try to mate with another same-gender species to produce better offspring. Majority female species meets majority male species while the minorities hit off with one another. In my species, child-luring through treat witches are more compatible with ogres, who make their jobs a bit easy because they primarily ask for food."

"OK." Dårlig shook his head. "Do you have a better example?"

"Hm." Mrs. Hexe hesitated. "I already told you about Aracdames. That species was _entirely_ female, but they still needed to mate with males to reproduce more of themselves. Luckily for them, they found their perfect match in all-male monsters called hollowgasts."

"From _Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children_? I think I know what you're talking about. Giant monsters with long, needle shaped arms and legs, faceless, and large fanged months with forked tongues that feast on eyes?" Dårlig said. "And when they physically morphed into humans, they had white pearly eyes?"

"Yes. Child eye feasting was a thing that united the two species, along with mutual taste for sadism. Until your ancestors annihilated the Aracdames, almost every Aracdame mated with a Hollowgast, and if they still liked each other even after the offspring came, they'd live and hunt children together. But since those females are gone, their male companions disappeared in the shadows."

"Yeah, I wouldn't want to meet them." Dårlig slightly turned his head and saw the stand neighboring the one they were currently in. It was a seafood stand run by two people, an adult and a boy probably a year younger than Dårlig, with green fish scales, webbed feet, and red eyes. The adult was dealing with the vending while the boy was guiding one of the customers through their display of mollusks. Dårlig's eyes hit the bull's eye.

A pile of oysters and three of them were open to display the pearls that came with the oysters, ranging from pure white to smooth black.

"Excuse me for a moment." Dårlig ran away from the stand and dashed to the seafood stand. "Hi," he told the boy. "I'd like to get a couple of your oysters with black pearls."

"Ten blights each," the boy said.

Dårlig grinned and he started piling up the money at the cash register. His ticket to Stone Foundation was guaranteed.


	5. Celebrity Preys

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 5: Celebrity Preys

While Dårlig was busy making business with the seafood vendor, Genny and Feige met up with Sean by the mall in Genny's parked van. The mall was still packed with Huns trying to investigate the jeweler's disappearance. The girls told the whole story to Sean.

"So you're telling me that Otrera Beldam kidnapped my sister and the jeweler... is because the candy she ate and the jewels he sold were made of Troll gemstones?" Sean asked skeptically.

"In a way, it adds up." Genny said while flipping the beads on her abacus. "But the thing I still can't put my finger on is why."

"Why?"

"You know. Aracdames feed off souls from children and Otrera's mother was notorious for posing as her victims' 'other mother' in order to feed off their souls full of love for their maternal figure. Why would she kidnap an adult? Excellent question. Why would she kidnap a child and an adult who happen to have exposure to Troll gemstones? That's the part I don't get."

"I agree." Feige positioned herself in a Lotus pose on the couch. She hummed until her eyes popped open. "The potion! Of course!"

"What potion?" Sean asked.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking about the disappearances. I was thinking of why my gem navel glowed when it was in proximity of one of Wonka's Gobstoppers. This kind of thing never happened to me before, but then I remembered the Night Soul Tree potion that Dårlig and I used to escape our parents."

"You mean the one that you made out of that poisonous underground tree so that you could go big and Dårlig would be split from his mom?" Genny said.

"Well that explains why you're tall." Sean nodded. "But what does it have to do with anything?"

"Sean, one of the ingredients that the potion required was grinded Troll gemstones from the navel of twelve female Trolls. My best guess is that consuming those other gemstones came with side effects on me. My navel will glow at the presence of other Troll gemstones."

"I'm seeing a pattern here." Genny pulled out a piece of paper and wrote the stuff down. " _You_ and Dårlig ate twelve Troll gemstones, Naomi ate twelve Everlasting Gobstoppers, and Willywaffle Wonka, the son of the guy who managed to industrialize Troll gemstones, got attacked on his last day as a twelve-year-old."

"Are you saying that Otrera Beldam is... was targeting people who consumed close to twelve Troll gemstones?" Sean asked.

"Or exposed to them," Feige pointed out. "Remember, the mall jeweler went missing along with all the jewelry in the shop. Also, you said that right when he opened, he had the store close an hour later and them phew!" Feige did a flying away whistle. "Gone like that!"

"When you put it that way, it does fit. But how do you explain Willywaffle Wonka's disappearance? You don't think Otrera Beldam is suddenly changing her Aracdame diet."

"That's what we'll have to find out." Genny rolled over to the van's computer section and started tapping until she pulled up a list document. "Mr. Wonka was generous enough to give us the list of all his customers who bought Troll gemstones for the sake of jewelry. Until some other candy-lover is announced, we can perhaps go through the list of upper-class, celebrities, and jewelers in Villainapolis who bought Troll gemstones in the last seven years."

"Is there any way you can make some kind of algorithm to sort out through the customers based on the number of purchased gemstones?" Feige asked. "If Otrera Beldam is targeting people who consumed or got exposure to twelve Troll gemstones..."

"I got it!" Genny clicked on her computer, pulling up a shorter list. "You were right, Feige! Out of the seventy-eight different clients that Mr. Wonka sold Troll gemstones to, we have forty-eight different possible targets. Billionaires, celebrities, engagement rings, antique dealers, museum owners, and... Xaos Sethson?"

"Sounds like a rapper's name," Feige commented.

"He _is_ a rapper, Feige!" Sean said. "He's not only a rapping prodigy, but he's also the boyfriend of Villainapolis' pop sensation sweetheart, Kory Lokisia." He gasped and went on his phone to check old magazine articles. "This year marks the twelfth time he's gotten incredible jewelry gifts for his girlfriend ever since they dated. I bet that he got all those jewels from Mr. Wonka! None of the paparazzi could get their fingers on his anonymous 'secret bling provider'!"

"What does it have to do with our situation?"

"They've been dating for two years and every two months, he gets Kory a special jewelry item that's either green or blue and impossible to find anywhere. The last jewelry he gave to her, also to mark their two-year anniversary, was a blue sapphire wolf head charm necklace. My best theory is that with all the cash he has, Sethson could provide himself with an expert to smash his chunks of purchased Troll gemstones to make jewelry out of it and give it to his girl!"

"Which means that if she's worn all of them, she could get exposed to their energy and Otrera Beldam could perhaps target her!" Genny snapped her fingers. She searched online and landed on a recent news report. "I got it! There's supposed to be a welcoming gala in Kory's honor tonight at the Viliott Hotel and Resort. Most of the people on the list will be there. It would be a good opportunity to sneak in... Question is, how to avoid getting caught?"

"Easy." Feige got up and held her arms up. Her hair engulfed her until it stuck to her skin and changed. In the next five seconds, a copy of Sean Abyss stood before them.

"Cool!" Sean whistled in fascination.

"Polyringler tricks," Feige smiled as she turned back to normal. "I'll make bracelets out of my hair and we can sneak in while posing as guests, servants, or whatnot."

"But won't the original models notice something's amiss if they see a clone of theirs walking around?" Genny pointed out.

"We'll just have to avoid them."

 _Later, back at Dårlig and Feige's apartment_

Dårlig placed the oysters onto the kitchen counter and grabbed a flat knife. With great precaution, he gently opened up the two oysters he had purchased at the market. As the raw goop oozed through the opening he caught sight of the black pearls that rested in the seafood. He smiled and plucked one of them out while closing the other oyster. "I'll keep you for Saturday," he told the oyster. He packaged the pearl-free oyster into a container and opened the fridge.

Dårlig froze. The miniature him ragdoll was sitting on the second top shelf between the orange juice and the eggs. A brief moment of creepy silence passed in the thirty seconds that came before Dårlig removed the doll from the fridge and glared at it. How on earth did it get inside the fridge? There was no way Feige could have put it in there: she didn't know about the doll nor would she do pranks like doing horror clichéd doll pranks on Dårlig.

Perhaps the neighbor who had sent it to him was pulling some kind of prank? Dårlig traced a line with one of his blade-sharp nails and began to dissect the doll. In the end, only loose strings, ragged fabric, and destroyed cotton balls covered the kitchen floor. Dårlig had expected some kind of tiny technological device that would command the doll like a robot, but after seeing not even a single wire in the thing, Dårlig grabbed the nearest plastic bag and threw the junk out. He ran out of the apartment to throw the bag in the nearest dumpster and ran back to the sidewalk as fast as he could.

"Ah, Mr. Bergen. Hello!"

Dårlig leaped at the sudden relief, only to sigh when he saw that it was just Narrow D Bight calling him from the driver's window of a black limousine. "Oh, good day, Mr. Bight. Driving Ms Arerto around?"

As if to answer his question, the door of the limousine popped open. Inside sat Madleb Arerto, her legs crossed and her butt relaxing on a nice pink couch with white polka dots and a glass coffee table holding a bucket full of bottles.

" _Dårlig Bergen,_ how _are_ you doing? It's quite the coincidence, since I was _just_ looking for you!" The blind young lady said.

"You were?"

"Yes. Come inside and let's chat." Ms. Arerto patted her right side, indicating that she wanted Dårlig to sit next to her.

"I'm kind of in a tight situation. I need to clean up the kitchen and get dinner ready for when Feige comes back..." Dårlig pointed back at the apartment. He yelped when Ms. Arerto managed to sneak up on him and put him on a halt.

"Oh, but I insist! I really am in need in assistance!" She said desperately. "You see, I'm having a little charity dinner tonight and I got bailed at the last minute by my hired chef. I know this may appear as last minute, but would you be interested to substitute him?"

"I don't know." Dårlig shook his head. "I'm already the son of a Bergen who used to serve Trolls as the main menu and I _really_ don't want the guests of a philanthropist like you to perceive that image and I might wreck your reputation. Besides, I have to make sure that Feige has something to eat when she gets back home."

"Don't you think that your little Troll would be more happy to know that you decided to do community service? After all, the money we make out of the charity dinner will be used to support a dam construction to keep the Tarrian River from being polluted."

Dårlig rubbed the back of his head in uncertainty. "Well I suppose I could just quickly cook her up something that she can heat up."

"So you'd be interested?" Ms. Arerto smiled.

"Very well. Just give me half an hour at most to get things ready and change," he said, making the philanthropist clapped her hands. Dårlig briefly blinked at Ms. Arerto in uncertainty.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"You seem a bit thinner than yesterday," the Bergen remarked. 'A bit thinner' was a bit to say the least. Ms. Arerto looked like she shad gone on a strict diet and lost ten pounds in the process. The fabric of her business suit looked a bit tighter than usual, as if it were trying to smooch with the body curves. Her hips looked a bit wider.

"I've been consuming less. After all, the needy need more than the wanting."

 _Later in the early night, at the Viliott Hotel And Resort_

The celebrities clapped their hands from the fancy tables they sat at in the ballrooms. The rapper, Xaos Sethson, was busy calling up the list of the best famous guy or girl who did the best at this insane thing. Unknown to them, three fake celebrities were dissolved among the crowd, courtesy of the polyringler skills of Feige.

"I see nothing suspicious at the tables," Genny said in her communicator.

"Nothing in the buffet," Sean added. "Though I can't believe the amounts of blights the chef makes for one dish!"

"Focus!" Genny hissed.

Meanwhile, Feige spied backstage. Nothing seemed too suspicious yet. Her eyes then caught attention to a purple light coming from an open door. She cautiously walked towards it and pushed the door open. It led inside a purple all over room: purple walls, purple furniture, purple couch, purple chandelier, and even a purple grape juice fountain. It was like one of those human green rooms but in too many shades of purple.

She gasped when she saw Kory Lokisia, the pop sensation, sitting on one of the couches and reading a newspaper. Feige cleared her throat. "Ms. Lokisia?"

"You can cut off the disguise," the celebrity said without even lifting her eyes from the newspaper. "I can smell your Troll scent off you."

Feige blinked but sighed. Her hair pulled off her limbs and went back in shape, losing her celebrity disguise and revealing her Troll appearance. "My scent is that bad?"

"Not really. But I'm a demigod child of Loki, I can tell off a disguise when I see one." Kory folded her newspaper and sat upstraight to have a better look at Feige. "Your unusually tall for a colorful Troll," she remarked.

"I get that a lot," Feige shrugged. "Ms Lokisia..."

"No need to go by formalities," the singer said with a smile. She held out her hand. "Call me Kory."

"Feige." Feige returned the handshake. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but my... friends and I were worried that you might be targeted."

"The mall jeweler and Ursula's daughter Naomi?" Kory guessed.

"How did you hear?" Feige was surprised.

"Somebody ratted the news of the disappearances to the UNHOLY GAZETTE, the most-selling gossip and news worthy newspaper in all of Villainapolis." Kory lifted up her newspaper for Feige to see the headline **DISAPPEARANCES. ARACDAME RETURN?** It even showed two gray-scale images of the Huns investigating the mall and Sean's house.

"When did this article come out?" Feige took the newspaper and flipped through it.

"Just an hour ago."

A little thing we must precise: unlike regular newspapers, which is thrown at your front doors only once a day in the morning, the UNHOLY GAZETTE makes papers **three times** a day, one at breakfast, one at lunch, and one at dinner as pretense to be **accurately** in touch with the latest news and gossip.

"Xaos and I were back in our hotel room getting ready for this gala when the paper was delivered to our door. My boyfriend recognized the victims as connected to Wonka's merchandise and his missing son. That's why I'm in the purple room. He feared that if I was out in the open, the kidnapper would catch me."

"But aren't you at risk of being caught much faster when you're alone?" Feige said in concern.

"Not really." Kory shook her head. "Just to be safe, I left all of my jewelry in our apartment and Xaos put an enchantment in the purple room to expel anyone who could harm me. Except you. You mean no harm."

"So you aren't the next victim," Feige snapped her fingers. "Dang it!"

"Why would you think I was the next victim?"

Feige told her the whole story. The pop sensation listened attentively as the Troll told her about the clues, the visit to Mr. Wonka's factory, Willywaffle's possible survivors, and that Kory was among the forty-eight celebrities who could be targeted next.

"So Otrera Beldam might be hunting for people who consumed or got exposed to Troll gemstones," she rubbed her chin. "Interesting."

"And we figured that since you were exposed to twelve accessories made of Troll gemstones, courtesy of your boyfriend, Villainapolis' most beloved singer could be next," Feige said. "I mean, she already took an adult and a child. Why not a teenager?"

"Would make sense if Otrera returned, with the rumors of the hollowgast..."

"Hollowgast?"

"Very tall, ugly creatures. No eyes, but very fanged mouths with long tongues that can snatch a prey and needles for arms and legs. My father Loki told me that this same-gender species of male was considered to be the most compatible mate for Aracdames. When I came back to Villainapolis, I got tipped off by a friend of mine who's in league with the black market crooks. One of those exotic spice merchants died shortly after she was found lying on the ground, her eye sockets empty and eating. My best guess? A hollowgast is in the neighborhood sucking the eyeballs of peculiars."

"What makes the victims peculiar?" Feige asked.

"No. 'Peculiar' in this dimension is slang for 'unique, therefore desired'. Most of the time, when a hollowgast feasts on eyes, it's because the eyes' hosts, the peculiars, have paranormal attributes that can keep a hollowgast's human appearance and longevity. I wouldn't be surprised if the rumored hollowgast sided with Otrera Beldam."

"Great." Feige crossed her arms.

"You might not want to tell the Huns yet," Kory warned. "Rumors can be false. There was no straight confirmation of a hollowgast attack, it could be just some loon's way to get attention," Kory warned. "If the Huns knew about the rumors, they would start closing down the black market crooks' markets and cause a downfall in the Villainapolis economy."

"So what should I do then?"

"You noticed a recurring theme with the disappearances. Troll gemstones, right? Perhaps instead of focusing of possible victims, you should figure out the reason behind the disappearances. Why would Otrera Beldam only target people with twelve Troll gemstones? What is it about that specific number of that specific mineral that interests her? Considering that she actually kidnapped an adult while her species mostly feasts on children, that's something."

Before Feige could say anything, a blackout suddenly engulfed the purple room. Feige quickly grabbed Kory and wrapped her in a hair shield. The girls stayed silent and didn't dare to breathe as they heard a strange squeaking sound getting louder in the room. They could feel the sweat going down their necks until screams came from outside, the squeaking disappeared, and the lights came back on. Feige removed the hair shield.

"It's so cool how your hair can change color to camouflage," Kory said in awe.

"Thanks." Feige eyed the purple room. "That's odd. I didn't hear the door open and close, but I thought I heard a noise. Like rats."

A series of screams was heard. The girls ran out of the room and back to the stage. Xaos Sethson the rapper instantly rushed to Kory. "Xaos, what happened?" Kory asked.

"I don't know. Some dude turned on the freakin' lights!"

"Feige!" Genny called out from the main floor. That's when they saw the horror. Thirty of the guests were dropped dead on the floor. Each of their heads had bleeding eye sockets void of eyeballs. Each of them were among the billionaires and celebrities on the possible target list.

"I... I don't understand," Feige gasped.

"I guess Otrera Beldam really brought along a hollowgast," Kory said in dismay. "Villainapolis is in trouble."

 _Meanwhile, on the other side of town_

Dårlig kicked the kitchen door open and walked into the dining hall with his hands holding trays full of food and drinks that filled the room in exotic aroma. The waiters assisted him by unloading the dishes onto the table. The guests awed and sniffed at what was being presented before them. To them, it was like the best food in all the city was presented before them as a reward for helping those in need.

The doors sprung open and Madleb Arerto stepped in. Out of nowhere, the spotlight appeared on her.

"Is she performing?" Dårlig asked the nearest waiter. The latter merely shrugged.

Madleb Arerto: _People come knockin' at my door_

 _Telling me 'We're in need of some more.'_

 _I answer to the call._

 _Tell me, beg me all._

 _In this world of wretchedness,_

 _I'm the angel to pull you out of the darkness._

The waiters aligned behind her like dancers. The room went dark and they held up their trays, which created a light show as the spotlights reflected on the silver mirrors during the choreography.

Madleb Arerto: _I got my eyes on you._

 _Figuratively, yes, but I know what to do._

 _I can save you from those cold mornings_

 _And provide you with dwellings._

 _I pay attention to every little detail_

 _To help those who are so frail._

 _Just because I look rag delicate,_

 _Doesn't mean that my charity is rag delicate._

Waiters: _Rag delicate._

The guests, much to Dårlig's surprise, began pounding the table in rhythm.

Madleb Arerto: _I may be blind,_

 _But I got a lot in my mind._

 _Any day, anyway, I come to you_

 _With assistance so true._

 _You just need to come knockin' at my door,_

 _You might cry raindrops on my floor._

 _I answer to the call._

 _Tell me, beg me all._

 _In this world of wretchedness,_

 _I'm the angel to pull you out of the darkness._

 _I got my eyes on you._

 _Figuratively, yes, but I know what to do._

 _I can save you from those cold mornings_

 _And provide you with dwellings._

 _I pay attention to every little detail_

 _To help those who are so frail._

 _Just because I look rag delicate,_

 _Doesn't mean that my charity is rag delicate._

Waiters: _Rag delicate._

The lights went back on and Madleb Arerto bowed with the waiters. Dårlig found himself applauding with the guests.

"Thank you! You so much!" Ms Arerto said. "And thank you for coming to my charity dinner, you, my friends in the art of bringing what is right to the needy in this unjust world!" The guests cheered. "And my greatest thanks to our chef of the night, Dårlig Bergen! Let us feast in his hard work!"

Dårlig found himself blushing as the guests cheered for him. He wasn't so used to being applauded. The Brewing Cupcake aside, it was like people truly appreciated his work regardless of the cook being a Bergen.

He went back to the kitchen and cleared things up to start making dessert. By the time he pulled out the chocolate cake from the oven and began to apply his homemade lavender frosting, the kitchen's back door sprung open and Mr. Bight came in. His mouth was bleeding while his left hand was holding a steak over his eye.

"What happened to you?" Dårlig was shocked.

"Some tried to mug me, but I made it out." Mr. Bight lifted a box full of dozens of soda bottles full of rainbow colored sodas and placed it on the counter. "I had to pick these up from Ms Arerto's house."

"Hang on. I'll get you some stuff to cool down your pain." Dårlig grabbed the necessaries to make a glass full of water and an ice pack. Mr. Bight drank the water and spit it into the sink and patted his cheek with the ice pack like a patient suffering from a latest wisdom teeth removal.

"Thank you," he told Dårlig.

"Of course. After everything that your boss has done for me..."

"Yes, Ms Arerto lives through her generosity to give to the people." Mr. Bight grabbed one of the rainbow colored soda bottles and uncorked it. "Here. Ms Arerto asked me to give you one. It's her way of saying thank you."

"Really?" Dårlig excitedly accepted the gift and drank from it. "Oh Lord, this tastes awesome! It's like a rainbow of fruit flavors! Strawberries, oranges, bananas, apples, blueberries, raspberries, and grapes all mixed into one perfect fruit-flavored root beer!"

"Do you like it? Ms Arerto knows some of the best confectioners in all of Villainapolis," Mr. Bight said. "The more her volunteers contribute, the more she rewards them well."

"That's so nice. My own mother never treated me like this!" Dårlig burped. "Excuse me!"

Mr. Bight chuckled in amusement. "You are one funny Bergen!"

 _Later, back in Dårlig and Feige's apartment_

"Where is he?" Feige looked worriedly at the kitchen clock. Ever since the incident at the Viliott Hotel, she had suggested bringing Kory Lokisia here for safety while Xaos Sethson distracted the journalists. Shan Yu had followed them later on.

"Perhaps the Brewing Cupcake needed someone for a night shift?" Genny suggested. Just then, the front door unlocked. Feige ran eagerly only to freeze when she saw Dårlig releasing hiccups and being carried by a stranger.

"Mr. Bight?" Shan Yu said. "What happened to Mr. Bergen?"

"My apologies," Mr. Bight said. "At the last minute, my boss asked for Mr. Bergen's assistance in a charity dinner and she rewarded him with free rainbow soda. He... might have consumed too much sugar."

"Because his mother hardly let him eat even a tablespoon of sugar." Feige pulled Dårlig out of Mr. Bight's arms and carried her heavy friend in hers. "You can tell your 'boss' that we don't need whatever drugs she's offering!" To that, she slammed the door on Mr. Bight.

"Feige!" Genny said in shock.

"That was the second hand of the city's best philanthropist and resourcist!" Sean added.

"Hello, Dårlig looks like a drunk rabbit under a rainbow!" Feige retorted right when the dizzy Dårlig muttered something about 'peaches and dolls'.

"OK, maybe if we just put Dårlig to bed, he'll get better in the morning. C'mon, I'll help you bring him to his room." Kory got up and helped Feige bring Dårlig to his room. As Feige laid her friend down, Kory cautiously closed the door. "FYI, I understand that you don't like Madleb Arerto."

"I don't see what's so great about her," Feige said bitterly as she put the covers over Dårlig. "I don't like how Dårlig is recently talking about her. He only talks about _me_ in that tone!"

"Believe me, I never liked philanthropists and their so-called altruism, but girlfriend to another, try toning your jealousy down when you get upset," Kory said. "Madleb Arerto is still popular in Villainapolis due to her charitable contributions. To speak ill of her is to welcome a charge for bullying a handicapped person. If you keep expressing your dislike of her in the Villainapolis public, you could get into some serious trouble."

"I'll keep that in mind," Feige said. Kory patted her on the shoulder and went back to the kitchen. Sean had bothered searching through the fridge to find beverages for everyone.

"So what's the plan now?" Shan Yu asked.

"Putting a pause on searching possible targets," Feige said.

"So you're officially in?"

"Otrera Beldam's kidnapping people with Troll gemstones and some of the targets fitting that match got killed rather than kidnapped." Feige drank from her glass of water. "As a Troll, I need to know why she's so interested in my species' gems."

"And how do we do that?" Sean asked.

"Drastic times call for drastic measures," Feige sighed unpleasantly.

"You don't mean..." Genny shook her head.

"We need to bring the research to the source. This might cost my head, but I have to go back to Bergen Town."


	6. The Other Chef

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 6: The Other Chef

Dårlig couldn't tell how long he had fallen asleep. The amount of sugar from all those rainbow sodas must have really hit him in the systems. Thanks to Chef and her selfish, he didn't have the sugar exposure that most teenagers now have and wasn't quite sure if he was dreaming or really awake. By the time he managed to open his eyes fully and sit upstraight on his bed, he froze. He felt confused.

Was this his room? He couldn't tell anymore. He was sitting on a bed big enough to fit three people in and his scraps quilt was now a yellow quilt with vegetable patterns in rainbow color order. The walls were close to the skin of his color, but more saturated. The blinds on his window were replaced by nice white curtains and his closet by a fancy wardrobe. But what stunned him the most were the additions: a comfy carpeted floor, shelves full of books, snow globes and framed insects, a nightstand holding a lamp, and a mobile with hanging kitchen utensils made of crystals.

Dårlig gasped. This had to be a dream. This is the kind of room he always dreamed of having as a child, the room that he deserved better than the ugly attic he once slept in.

A humming sound came from the other side of the door. This made Dårlig freeze. He knew that whistle. He grabbed the door handle and walked towards the kitchen. His feet stopped in his tracks when he saw who was in the kitchen. He could have sworn he had seen her corpse before in the past.

"C... Chef?" He choked. This must be a nightmare. This couldn't be his dead mother cooking in _his_ kitchen!

Chef turned... to reveal that she wasn't Chef. Or at least, the Chef Dårlig knew. It was like somebody had originally made Chef out of Playdoh and stretched her out to turn her into another Chef. A Chef who was far thinner, curvier, with a smaller chin, pimple-free smooth skin, trimmed nails, and bob haircut. Her old chef toge was gone and her uniform was replaced by a white shirt and apron and a black skirt. She even wore shoes! It was like somebody turned the Bergen Chef into a human housewife!

Oh, and she had red button eyes.

"Dårlig, my darling!" The oven dinged and 'Chef' pulled out a dish holding the yellowest roasted beef Dårlig had ever seen in his life. She placed it on the white tablecloth-covered table. "You're just in time for dinner!"

"Uh, Chef never made me dinner." Dårlig was confused, but the aroma of the roasted chicken was so tantalizing.

"Except I'm not Chef. I'm your _Other_ Chef!" The Other Chef poked Dårlig's nose and pretended that she plucked his nose away. "Boop! Got your nose!"

Dårlig was too stunned. "Uh... OK, this is a hallucination. I'm going back to bed." He began to make a turn.

"Without taking something to eat?" The Other Chef asked. Dårlig turned to look back. The counter was now unexpectedly turned into a feast. Aside from the roasted chicken, he saw Bolognese pasta, red lentil soup, Indian curry, vegetable medley, a six-shelf display of all kinds of juices and soda, and the biggest Black Forest cake he had seen in his life. His treacherous mouth began to water. This was something _he would make to feed others,_ not something _he would eat because others made it for him._

"Well I guess it would be impolite if I didn't eat something." He grabbed a stool and sat at the counter. The Other Chef clapped her hands in excitement and began to fill him up a plate with portions from each dish. Dårlig took a bite from the chicken and widened his eyes. Crunchy, yellow, sweet meat. This was the best kind he had ever eaten. Dårlig wasted no second and began to devour through the rest of his plate.

"Something to drink?" The Other Chef waved at the stand of drinks. "Cranberry juice? How about orange juice? Or maybe birch beer, root beer, ginger ale, rainbow soda..."

"Rainbow soda?" Dårlig's mouth watered. The Other Chef gave him a big smile full of perfectly straight teeth and filled him up a glass. The young Bergen grabbed the glass and gulped it down. The Other Chef took his empty plate and replaced it with a smaller one holding a Black Forest cake slice. Under the frosting, the layers were curled up to make 'WELCOME HOME', but it seemed like Dårlig hardly noticed it as he devoured the cake.

"You were so hungry. Weren't you, Dårlig darling?" The Other Chef looked at Dårlig with her red button eyes while he wiped his mouth with a napkin. Before he could answer, he let out a yawn. All that found must have worn him out.

The Other Chef took his hand and guided back to his room. "I must be dreaming," Dårlig grumbled happily as the Other Chef tucked him in bed.

"Sweet dreams," the Other Chef whispered and she closed the door behind her. "I'll see you very soon."

Dårlig closed his eyes, but when he reopened them, he found himself back in his regular room in his apartment. He looked at the spot where he had placed the framed picture that Feige had drawn for him. He sighed in relief.

"I'm back in real life," he sighed.

 _Later_

He wished he had eaten those words. Now everytime he ate throughout the day, the food just tasted bitter, even the sandwiches that Mrs. Hexe's sister ordered for lunch tasted like sand to hand. Ten times during the day, he had to throw up in the bathroom. When his shift was over, Mrs. Hexe's sister volunteered to take him to the Villainapolis Hospital to see what was wrong with him. Luckily for them, Doctor Medea was a family friend and she was able to book a last-minute appointment for them. She checked Dårlig's five senses, asked him mental questions, and then the problem was found when he mentioned his strange dream.

"Otrera Beldam went in his mind," Doctor Medea concluded. "He must be placed in weekly medication until the blasted Aracdame has been apprehended."

"But how could she go into my mind?" Dårlig was confused. "I never met her!"

"Dårlig, did you happen to have a ragdoll resembling you?" Mrs. Hexe's Sister asked.

"Well, yeah. A few days ago, I got a package with a mini me in it. Somebody gave it to me for being recognized by Madleb Arerto. But I threw it in the trash after I found it in the fridge yesterday."

"The nerve of that witch! Using your connections with someone as community-oriented as Ms. Arerto to get close to her victim! It's a good thing you disposed of that doll as soon as possible!"

"But now he might be in trouble." Doctor Medea searched through the cabinets of her clinic room. "Aracdames are fickle. If they manage to seduce a victim twice since their meeting, then the victim will willingly come to them physically."

"You mean if I see her again in my head... the next time following that will be real?" Dårlig now felt nervous.

"And she could have your eyes buttoned. But don't worry, we have a solution." She pulled out a vial from the cabinet and uncorked it. A black pill landed on her palm and she forced it into Dårlig's mouth. He had to force his lips shut to let the pill down his throat despite the pill's nasty taste of apple cider vinegar. "This Colchis Kelp pill will keep your mind stone protected from any possible mind penetration. The pill's effects only last a week, so you'll have to return to my office next Friday to get a new one until the whole affair is over."

"Can't I have the prescription to go?" Dårlig asked.

"No." Doctor Medea put the vial back in the cabinet. When Dårlig leant forward, he saw that all the cabinet's vials were chained down to the shelf.

"With the rules of D.A.P, many medicines can't be risked traded around the city," Mrs. Hexe's Sister explained to him. "Some doctors like Medea use enchanted chains to keep the medicine from being stolen."

"But what if the thief has an magic removal spell that could weaken the chains?" Dårlig asked.

"They should know better than to steal from the doctor," Doctor Medea said. "Remember, come back next week."

They began to follow Doctor Medea out of the room. A green-haired male nurse bearing a hospital mask walked past them. His lab coat was zipped all the way up, but since it was evidently too small on him, it tightened his form and Dårlig could have sworn he saw the word 'WILL' forming on his waist.

"I need to use the restrooms," he lied.

"Sure thing. I spotted some right over there." Mrs. Hexe's Sister pointed at the direction they came from.

Dårlig nodded and turned back. Since the bathrooms were right next to Doctor Medea's clinic room, Dårlig went in there and waited for two minutes before coming out. The women were no longer in the hallway, and just to his dumb luck, the green-haired male nurse forgot to close the door completely when he went inside Doctor Medea's clinic room. Dårlig peaked through the opening and saw the freak open the cabinet where Doctor Medea stored the Colchis Kelp pills. The freak held up a pendant necklace with the pendant shaped like a strange star made out of twelve different colored stones. A rainbow glow came from the glow and the pendant looked lie it was aspirating the energy of the chains. In the end, they broke open and the nurse was able to take the vial of Colchis Kelp pills and stuff it in his pocket. Then, mysteriously, his hair changed colors from crazy green to regular brown.

Dårlig covered his mouth. It was the same black market crook he had seen at the grocery store!

The crook held up his pendant and used it to change his hair into green again and walk away in serenity. He didn't spot Dårlig, for the latter rushed back to the bathroom at the last minute.

"So, this is Will," Dårlig commented to himself.

 _Ten minutes later, in front of the hospital lobby's vending machine_

"I see the old Will came back to steal from us," Doctor Medea shrugged as she inserted five blights into the machine and got herself a cup of dark Styx mocha poured.

"He just stole from your cabinet despite the D.A.P and you aren't surprised?" Dårlig was shocked.

"We were the first time he began to steal from our hospital, but after we saw that he only came to steal once a month the same medicine in different disguises, we kind of gave up."

"I'm surprised that the most money-making black market con artist in all of Villainapolis only steals Colchis Kelp," Mrs. Hexe's sister commented. "He could have easily tricked you into selling it for him."

"Please, let's not exaggerate. He has by far the biggest amount of records to make him the most wanted man in Villainapolis."

"What records?" Dårlig asked.

"Money swindling, Colchis Kelp pills theft, smuggling of vermin pesticide and metal darts, intoxication on public space, and insane eluding," Doctor Medea listed. "Everytime a customer comes to complain that they got their money robbed, the Huns try to arrest him, but he disappears everytime they nearly corner him."

"Judging by how I saw him change hair color, it's no wonder he never got arrested," Dårlig said dully. Still, none of those added up. What was so big about an infamous black market con artist that a dying victim would beg Dårlig to 'warn Will'? And the pendant brought no benefit to the doubt. The stones were suspicious and Dårlig didn't like how Will's hair color morphing reminded him badly of a Troll's hair morphing in order to camouflage.

 _Forget this_ , he thought. _I can't do Saturday. I'm going to the Crooked Mill tomorrow morning._

 _Sundown at the Crooked Mill_

Loom was stirring a pot full of steaming soup in the mill's fireplace when he heard the gears turning. He put the ladle away and bowed to Will as the latter stepped off the automatic ladder. "Master have good day?" Loom asked.

"The usual, Loom." Will yawned and tossed his bag of goods onto the table. "Sold to a duchess, a middle-class worker, and an opera teacher. Swindled a pawnshop owner and a thrift shop storekeeper. Stole Colchis Kelp pills from the Villainapolis Hospital. Smuggled some rat poison from the black market crook leaving for Eviladelphia. Oh, and I got you something." He pulled out a pink pouch full of cocoa beans. He tossed it to Loom, who eagerly caught it like a child catching a chocolate baseball.

"Master so generous," Loom said happily.

"I know," Will nodded. He pulled out the trinkets he had managed to collect during his trading. Aside from the rat poison, Colchis Kelp pills, and the cocoa beans for Loom, Will had also managed to collect empty pink wine and blue glass bottles, golden chain watches, dozens of full beer cans, and a supply of toothpaste. After organizing everything in shelves, he grabbed the bottles, a yarn of strings, and scissors, and brought them over to the willow tree. With the rays of sunset illuminating it, it was quite a rainbow fire made of glass in the Crooked Mill.

"Master make willow tree more decorated?" Loom mused and finished cooking the soup.

"Indeed." Will hung the bottles in different branches. "I saw some very strange things today, Loom. First, I thought I saw a Bergen at the hospital."

"Bergen in hospital?" Loom asked in confusion as he poured some soup into a fancy water lily shaped bowl. "Bergens too gloomy. Even too gloomy for Aracdames to eat. Doctors probably got gloomy Bergen to cheer up gloomy patients."

"Loom, how does showing someone gloomy make a gloomy person feel better?" Will arched an eyebrow.

"Seeing someone gloomier than you make you feel better?" Loom suggested.

"Hm. Good point." Will tied up the last pink bottle.

"And what is second strange thing master saw?"

"More like dreamt." Will sat down on the floor. "I had a strange dream this morning. For the first time in my entire life, I dreamed about a girl."

Loom whistled in amusement. "Master _been_ busy!"

"Oh, don't get your hopes up!" Will brushed away Loom's comment. "I never met her in real life!" He sighed at the willow tree. "But in my dream... she was so beautiful. It was like a lavender nymph rose from the green grass, the fields formed a dress on her, and her hair... It was so pink and turquoise like this flower I saw once in a book, and when the wind blew through her locks, it was like an enchanted river and she smelled like an Everlasting Gobstopper. I couldn't see her eyes or her face because I woke up."

Loom walked up to him and handed his master the bowl full of soup. Will took the bowl and drank from it. "I'm probably just stressed from work that I'm having crazy dreams."

"Loom understand master's desires, but wouldn't it be nice if master think about meeting special girl?" Loom said. "After all, Aracdame only feast on young virgins. If you were loved, she would do nothing on you."

"Loom, I don't want to take advantage of some girl just because being deflowered is the one thing an Aracdame can't stand in a victim." Will shook his head. "But I promise you. When we are finally safe from Otrera Beldam, I'll find the one meant for me and we can all be happy."

"But how long? Could be forever until Aracdame is defeated for good! Master might not find happiness until wrinkles hit!"

Will ran his fingers through Loom's hair. "Relax, Loom. I'm sure that one day, when I don't have to rely on my black market con artist ways anymore and I can have a decent life, I might just meet the girl I saw in my dreams." He sighed. "Magenta and turquoise... perfectly streaked in a river..."

"Streaked magenta and turquoise? Sounds like stripped gladiola," Loom said.

Will frowned. "Stripped gladiola?"

"Yeah, stripped gladiola. Magic flower where special baby prince or princess hatches from if parents have massive true love. Bloom, Oompa-Loompa back at factory, told story about Trolls, the Oompa-Loompa's cousin. Story say that new Troll king and queen love very much, caused a princess to be born from a stripped gladiola. Princess eighteen by now. Hair with magenta and turquoise stripes like flower she was born and named after."

Will's eyes widened in curiosity. "A Troll Princess... named Gladiola?"


	7. Back in Bergen TownAgain

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 7: Back in Bergen Town...Again

While Dårlig was at the hospital, a portal vortex just opened just outside of Bergen town. Shan Yu and six other Hun Elite officers took the lead while Genny and Sean followed behind. Feige, for her part, walked at the far end of the group disguised in a purple cloak with a hood covering her head and facial features with its shadows and a face scarf to hide the bottom half of her face.

"Remember, we are entering a foreigner town. Act civil and do not mention anything about Feige," Shan Yu said. "Remember, she is pretending to be a church member from Villainapolis. Act like she is."

"But what do we do if the Bergens and Trolls realize that we brought with us one of their criminals?" One of the officers asked.

"We'll improvise." They reached the gate, where two Bergen guards held their sears at them.

"Foreigners. State your reason for being here," one of them said.

"I am Sheriff Shan Yu of Villainapolis," Shan Yu declared. "We have reasons to believe that disappearances in our city is due to a misused Troll artifact. We would like King Branch and Queen Poppy's permission to investigate Bergen Town for clues."

The two guards whispered to each other in surprise. "We'll take you to the castle," the first guard said. He whistled and the gates to the city opened. The guards led them into the town. For Feige, it felt like an unusual sense of déjà vu mixed with odd perspective. The first times she had come to Bergen Town, she and Dårlig paid hardly any attention and primarily used the local goods for their vengeful desires before then leaving. Now, she came in as a disguised criminal who ironically came back to figure out how to save lives.

The town was unusually quiet. Normally at this time, the streets were supposed to be full, but no Bergen or Troll was in sight. All the doors and windows were shut. At one point when they walked through the fog-covered town, Feige heard dinging noises coming from the houses. Even though she knew they were the Trolls' hug time bracelets, she couldn't help but feel that they were dinging ominous bells.

They then walked to the heart of the town. The foreigners dropped their jaws when they saw what looked like the remains of a burned tree, its ashes forming eight black scorched marks on the road that made the marks look like spider legs.

"What happened here?" Sean asked.

"The Troll tree killed itself," one of the guards said. "We don't know how and why, but ten hours after some fugitives left the town earlier this week, the tree bursted into flames."

Feige gulped.

"And the marks?" Genny asked.

"They came shortly after the tree burned. And then the bad things began to happen."

"No, what could be worse than a tree burning randomly?" Sean said sarcastically.

"During each day that followed up to now," the guard said, "Troll children have begun to disappear."

This left a chill down the spines of the foreigners as they walked up the palace steps. For Feige, the castle seemed far much smaller than it had been back when she was mouse sized. As they walked through the hallway, they passed a room where Troll couples looked like they were sobbing hysterically while Troll doctors and Bergen guards tried consoling them. But the strangest thing? The Trolls were about Feige's size and they were _sobbing_. Trolls never cried that much.

The guards opened the throneroom. Feige widened her eyes. All the Trolls present were her size! How was this possible? She and Dårlig had destroyed the Night Soul Tree! But nevertheless, it seemed like the throneroom had been turned into a council room for the Bergen King and Queen, the Troll King and Queen, the latter's father, the Snack Pack, the Bergen Princess, and a few other Trolls and Bergens that Feige didn't recognize. But one thing struck her when she saw the council.

"I don't see the Troll princess," Feige whispered to Genny.

Genny nudged her to keep it down as the group went down on their knees to bow to the council.

"What brings you to Bergen Town?" King Gristle asked.

"A request for investigation, Your Highness," Shan Yu said. "Our city under the situation of people mysteriously vanishing or getting assassinated. Our strong belief is that an Aracdame is behind it and her main interest with the victims is that they were near Troll gemstones."

This caused the council to gasp. "Why would an Aracdame be interested in our gemstones?" King Branch questioned.

"We do not know, but that's why we wish for your permission to do some investigating in your kingdom. Perhaps by finding gathered clues here on the knowledge and history of your sacred stones, we might know why Otrera Beldam is after them."

"Otrera is back?" King Peppy looked startled.

"You know about her?"

"Don't I. Seven years ago, the treacherous Willy Wonka came to the forest when I was there for a retreat. He cried to me that his son went missing after Otrera failed to kill him. I refused to help him."

"Dad!" Queen Poppy was shocked.

"He turned back on his offer to free us after Chef offered to give him a supply of Troll gemstones for him to industrialize!" Her father defended his cause.

Feige nudged Genny and whispered something to her. "Forgive me, your majesties, but we couldn't help to learn that not only is the Troll Tree dead, but some of your Troll younglings have vanished as well," Genny said. "I can't help but find it rather coincidental."

"Well, the Troll Tree part is more of a regular thing. It's not eternal and uses the concept of phoenixes: every thousand years, the tree hits its old age and combusts so that a younger one can grow from its ashes," King Poppy said sadly. "But we fear that the tree must have picked up my granddaughter's depression and rotted away. No sprout has emerged and the Trolls are not feeling quite happy."

"They're all gray again?" Feige exclaimed a little too loudly. Her voice was recognized by the ears of others who knew her all too well and glared at her. She sighed and kicked off her hood.

" _YOU!_ " Princess Calico exclaimed.

"Why have you brought her?" King Gristle demanded. "She brought harm to the citizens of Bergen Town!"

"They brought me for a trade." Feige walked up and stood before the royals. "Your permission in exchange for my incarceration."

"WHAT?" The group exclaimed.

" _You_ would allow yourself to be imprisoned just so that they can do research?" King Branch asked skeptically.

"The solution is more likely than instant forgiveness," Feige pointed out. "Aside from manipulation, trickery, and public murder, I'm also the daughter of the most treacherous Troll among your people. And knowing your hatred for Creek, wouldn't my punishment satisfy you, King Branch?"

"Speaking of murder, where's your boyfriend?" Calico asked.

"Intoxication by rainbow soda," Feige said bitterly. "I hate philanthropists."

"Feige!" Genny said.

"Forgive me if I don't trust a blind goodie-two-shoes who gave too much of what Dårlig isn't used to and I had to leave him bedridden without warning him that I had to go back to the town that we vowed never to return to!" Feige took a deep breath and turned back to the Troll King. "So how long will I be imprisoned?"

"Not necessary," he shook his head.

Queen Poppy gasped. "Who are you and what have you done with my husband?" She joked, causing the other Trolls from the council to giggle.

"Don't get me wrong." Branch pointed at Feige. "I don't trust you but I am willing to give you a second chance. We'll let you and your friends investigate the kingdom and question the citizens, but you'll be escorted or watched by either a Bergen guard or a Troll member of the Council. Cross the line or try to murder anybody with your slippery hair, and we _will_ imprison you."

"Fair enough," Feige said.

 _Later_

Genny buried a metal rod into the earth where the Troll Tree once stood. Beeping sound came from one her machines as she did a diagnosis under the watchful eyes of the others and Peppy, who took the first shift of keeping an eye on the foreigners.

"Well?" Shan Yu asked.

"Nada. Nothing. Zero." Genny shook her head and plucked out her rod. "My geo-mineral scanner can't pick up anything aside from dirt and buried Troll tunnels. No Troll gemstones."

"But I thought that Troll gemstones were seeds of the Troll Tree?" Feige looked at Peppy.

"They are, but as happiness amplifiers, they can also be affected by the life forms harvesting them. Especially when said life forms have very massive emotions..." Peppy began, only for Feige to find out.

"Gladiola's depression! Oh, man!" She looked at the earth in guilt. "Did Dårlig and I hit her that hard? To the point where she got so depressive that the tree's Troll gemstones picked up the negative emotions and turned as cold as stones?" She gasped. "Did Gladiola turn grey?"

"No, thank goodness. But even though she kept her colors, she was grey inside. After you left and she had to bid farewell to her human friends, she turned into a grey Troll on the inside and locked herself in her room. Since then, the roads got hit by those dark marks, the Trolls inexplicably got taller, and now they all shut themselves in with the Bergens to avoid getting inside the fog."

"And how many Troll children went missing?" Shan Yu asked.

"Five children under thirteen. Two boys and three girls."

"This can't be a coincidence," Genny said. "Why are Troll children disappearing here while people of all ages are either missing or killed due to their Troll gemstone exposure back at Villainapolis?"

"Maybe Black Friday got pushed back to a few more months?" Sean suggested. Everyone looked at him blankly and a cricket chirped somewhere. "What? They do stuff like that in slave markets?"

"Otrera Beldam couldn't possibly want to feast on Trolls for their happiness," Shan Yu paced around the plaza shrouded by fog. "Her species feasts primarily on children with dull lives who fall prey to her seductive tricks. No offense, but Trolls are hopelessly happy."

"Except she's changing her game," Feige said. "She recently kidnapped an adult victim and tried to eat Wonka's son right before his thirteenth birthday. Now there's a possibility that she is finding more possibilities when it comes to her hunting."

"You mean changing her diet?" Sean asked.

"No. What if Otrera doesn't just want to survive. What if she's trying to... evolve?"

 _Later again_

'Evolution' is one of those words that many people try to come up with a proper definition but can never settle on a specific one. For people like Darwin, 'evolution' means the way species turn into more complex and stronger species, like how singular cell life forms from prehistoric times turn into the more complex and stronger humans that we see today. For naive minds like those of playground kids, 'evolution' is another word for how an ugly land-bound caterpillar turns into a beautiful flying butterfly.

And then there is a twisted definition of evolution that the author doesn't accept but acknowledge the possibility. That definition is when a certain someone has limits imposed by nature on how it must survive but when they find a way to break those laws and turn into a form that is more capable than what they are, _that_ is evolution.

Feige must have believed in that definition of evolution if her Troll mind thought that Otrera Beldam changing her basics in hunting meant that Otrera was evolving into something they weren't certain to be any scarier. At least the pieces fit when they inspected the Bergen houses where the missing Troll children had stayed with their parents until they mysteriously disappeared. In each of them, beds had to be pushed to reveal that they were hiding a doodled tiny door with no handle. There weren't any stranded clone dolls with button eyes or trash candy wrappers, but the doors were really unnerving. When they hit the third house, one of the Huns came up with the idea to use a Swiss army knife to cut out the door so that it could open. The idea was then used for the others, but much to their chagrin, all they could find on the other sides of the door aside from the tiny handle was a bricked wall.

And they all felt like bricks were covering them. Even the brunch that the royals offered didn't cheer them up.

"Dead trees, bricked doors..." Feige grumbled as she punched her waffles in frustration. "Now I don't know who I despise more! Otrera Beldam or Madleb Arerto!"

"Feige, you never even met Madleb," Genny said quietly. Feige just grumbled on through her plate. Since everyone else was busy talking about whatever damn she didn't care about, she stormed out of her seat and walked outside to sit on the front steps of the palace. The streets were still fogged and the sun was up in the weird, murky green sky. Feige sighed in exasperation.

"Never expected you to show your face here," a familiar voice spoke up.

Feige looked up. Princess Gladiola was sitting on a balcony just above her. The daughter of Creek had to drop her jaw. The locals weren't kidding about Gladiola's colorful depression. Her skin and hair color were the same, but ever since Dårlig had cut off her hair, it was falling down to her shoulders and looked messy as if she had just washed her hair and left it messy after rubbing it with a towel. Her clothes looked sweaty and she had some dark purple bags under her eyes.

"Oy vey," Feige said in guilt. "What have I done?"

"You and your boyfriend ruined me," Gladiola said dully and jumped off the balcony to land in front of Feige. "I thought you swore to never put your feet in Bergen Town."

"Believe me, if I didn't have to play detectives, I'd be back in Villainapolis slapping off some blind altruistic jerk who's interested in Dårlig!" Feige snapped. "What's your excuse? Your kingdom's in peril, your people's children are missing, and all you can do is mope in your room?"

Gladiola bit her lip at the harshness of those words. Feige sighed. "I'm sorry. You don't deserve that trash talk coming from me."

"No, I kind of deserved it." Gladiola sat down next to her to look at the horizon. "I messed up big time. And because of my mistakes, I was afraid to take another step and make another mistake."

"It already happened." Feige pointed ahead at the heart of Bergen Town. "The Tree took a lot of your depression in and killed itself. Without its gemstones, the Trolls have nothing to harvest to make inner happiness. And some creepy witch is using that misery to lure in Troll children while also kidnapping or killing people who happen to possess or eat twelve Troll gemstones."

"Is the creepy witch the blind altruist?"

"Not even close. All we know is that the creepy witch is after people who had something to do with twelve gemstones and..." Her eyes widened. "CHEF!" Feige got up and ran back to the castle. Gladiola followed her just in time to catch Feige snatching a shovel and running to the kitchen. Once there, Feige used the old secret entrance in the chimney that led to the underground hideout of the Night Soul Tree. Gladiola grabbed a torch from the hallway and used it to light the way as she walked her way down to the dark chamber with the soil floor.

"What are you doing?" Gladiola asked Feige. She held up her torch and the light showed Feige brushing away some ancient ashes and using the shovel to start digging.

"Before Dårlig and I settled for burning the Night Soul Tree, we considered uprooting it but we gave up when Dårlig hit something under the roots that broke his..."

BANG!

Feige lifted up her shovel. The metal completely disintegrated. She threw it away and proceeded to digging with her hands. After five minutes of hand digging, she wiped away the earth to reveal a circle made of metal mushroom carvings.

"Is that a... fairy ring made of metal?" Gladiola planted her torch's stick onto the ground and knelt by Feige.

"Yeah. Back when I used to live at Mr. Darwin's I read a lot of his books on magical plants or creature traps. In the old days, fairy rings were made due to fairies dancing, but if you made a fairy ring out of metal, it would trap whatever fairy landed in it." Feige knocked on the wooden circular board that was on the inside of the ring. A deep echo came from it. She used her hair to forcibly pull away the wooden board and landed on her back with the cover on her stomach.

Gladiola cautiously backed away from what the board had been sealing. A deep well. "W...wow." The princess was dumbfounded. "It must be a good 200 foot drop from here! I bet anyone could see a sky full of stars in the middle of the day if they fell at the bottom!"

"Yeah, and what better place to hide this." Feige showed Gladiola the other side of the wooden board.

Glued to it was a locked chest made of metal.

"A treasure?" Gladiola was confused.

"Better. Property of a Bergen Chef."

 _Later, in the throneroom_

The Huns placed the board onto the table and Shan Yu used his sword to pick the lock open. The chest opened up and revealed preserved parchments and other artifacts. "I recognize the handwriting!" Shan Yu exclaimed. "This is the exact handwriting of the Bergen Chef who was hired to bring an end to the Aracdames!"

" _Our Chef_?" Bridget raised an eyebrow.

"Not Dårlig's mother. Their ancestor," Feige explained. "Dårlig told me this crazy story about how somebody told him that the reason many same-gender species in Villainapolis don't like Bergens is because Chef didn't finish the job that her ancestor did when she was in town. Bring an end to the Aracdame species. The ancestor finished the species off probably a thousand years ago and if the math is right, it must have been a bit before the crisis with the Troll Prince who made the Night Soul Tree."

"That would make sense. And then he buried the chest under the Night Soul Tree," Genny guessed.

"Not quite." Feige began to unload the papers and artifacts unto the table for all of them to look at. "The board was used to cover a well within a metal fairy ring. Back in the real world dimension, the stories of the Other Mother's defeat concludes with her broken sentient hand and the key to her realm being thrown in an endless well under a fairy ring. If the Bergen Chef hid the chest underneath a board sealing a metal fairy ring well, it must mean that he came up with a backup plan in case an Aracdame turned out to be alive."

"You mean that we have to throw Otrera Beldam into an underground well and seal her in?" Sean said. "You realize that this sounds too easy, right? My own mom's plan to take over the seven seas didn't work out because she neglected floating shipwrecked boats."

"Floating shipwrecked boats?" Poppy said.

Sean shook his head, indicating that he didn't want to talk about it. Meanwhile, Gladiola was the first to pick up one of the manuscripts, a dusty black manuscripts entitled GLOBAL BEASTOLOGY. A red bookmark stood out and she opened it, revealing the bookmark to have the old Trollstice seal and marking the page for Aracdames.

"'Aracdames. Part of the darkest branches of the Genus Fae family. These needle-handed, broken porcelain skinned, button eyed humanoid spiders are probably the world's most dangerous female same-gender species.'" She read out loud. "They are known to be dangerous witches and seduce bored children away from the families and trick them with false promises of happy lives with the price being buttons for eyes and their souls consumed. As long as they make sure to eat at least one child's soul a year individually, the Aracdames can live as long as they please."

"So they can live up to a thousand years as long as they eat children," Feige said.

"'However, it has been noted that while Aracdames, like many other cannibalistic same-gender species, feed on children, they are bound to hunting rules. A child's soul is pure enough to eat **ONLY** if said child is a virgin. Since many children tend to lose their virginities as teenagers, it is preferable for an Aracdame to target a child below the age of thirteen. The other condition is to the Victim Virginity Clause is that the virgin must be individual bound. As a pure soul can be tainted if bonded to another soul, an Aracdame can lose her targeted victim if the victim has physically connected or shared True Love's Kiss with another soul.'"

"I never believed that true love's kiss could end any curse." Genny shook her head.

"'Aracdames can easily blend in an environment and take the form of a person that brings spontaneous trust in the victim. Many prefer to create dimensions, or 'webs', where they lure the victim into their own pleasure island. The preferred victims on the Aracdame diet are easily humans and some minor magical creatures. The species that the Aracdames ignore and never hunt are Bergens while the species they hate the most are Trolls.'" Gladiola finished reading. "There's also a handwritten note on the paper. Probably from the Chef back then."

"What does it say?" Feige asked.

"'Go figure!'" Gladiola read out loud. "'The Bergens are hopelessly gloomy and have the stone bound belief that only eating a Troll could make them happy, we couldn't fall for such a dumb trick! As for the Trolls, they are hopelessly happy. Unless they have bird brains, they wouldn't fall that easily to the traps and they pose a menace for Aracdames!'"

"I guess the guy wasn't kidding," Gladiola's father remarked after he unrolled one of the loose parchments and passed it around. It looked like an illustrated page from one of those Medieval aged books, only this one showed the black-and-white Aracdames smashing with webbed hammers Troll gemstones implanted on the ground while the world and its people wailed in misery in the grey background.

"The Troll gemstones are supposed to be living batteries of happiness and the Trolls its harvesters," Peppy said. "They originally grew right here until twelve made the Troll Tree and their sisters spread over different kingdoms, proliferating happiness in the process."

Gladiola read out loud the note that was written on the back of the parchment when it was her turn to have a look at it. "'Found this in a Transylvanian library. Local villagers say that until I came along and put an end to their wickedness, the Aracdames were destroying Troll gemstones to keep happiness from coming, thus increasing unhappiness and boredom and more victims to come.'"

"The Aracdame and Troll gemstones relationship makes more sense now, but it doesn't explain why Otrera Beldam is after people who ate or touched twelve of them a thousand years after her people died. What else do we have?" Shan Yu asked.

"Mostly burned papers on eclipses, what look like some kind of sedative recipes, and these weird crossed off doodles." Feige put some emphasis onto the last part when it came to doodles covered with massive charcoal crosses that made it harder to decipher the meaning. Calico managed to find what looked like the diary of the deceased Bergen Chef. She opened it and flipped through its pages until she hit the last written page.

"'To my descendants reading this. I am sorry if I haven't written in almost half a year, a lot has happened. Shortly after Trollstice, a messenger came to Bergen Town requesting my assistance to conquer monsters. ' _Your Chef is the best creature hunter, judging by how he has managed to keep your Trolls under your fingers,'_ he said.

"'Since I still had a year until my services were primarily needed for Trollstice, I followed the messenger through a portal and he brought me to a horribly gray land, even Bergen Town looked like Heaven compared to this wasteland. All the land's villages had rallied in mobs and the rulers, whom I was brought to, told me: ' _Bergen, we would like you to help us. Dangerous witches are hunting our children. We fear for the welfare of our people. destroy those beasts and you shall be rewarded.'_

"'At first, it wasn't easy. I was actually terrified the first time I ran into an Aracdame and she horribly scratched my face, but I eventually came up with traps to capture all the Aracdames. The villagers then threw them into metal fairy ring wells, and if those prisoners didn't die from starvation, metal boulders would crush them.

"'I had the most difficulty hunting the last one. The villagers called her the Beldam, the children 'the Other Mother', and her kind the 'Cunning One'. The Beldam didn't come out in the open as often as the others did and I remorsefully came up with the idea to use a child faking boredom to get the Beldam to lure him in her web while I discreetly followed. The child was strong. He easily acted out the role of the child impressed by his Other Mother, so when she was in her weakest form, I ripped off her button eyes and began to chop her off.

"' _CURSES! CURSES, BUT NOT SO SOON!_ "' She kept shouting. "' _WHEN ALIGN THE MOON, I SHALL GET WHAT I DESERVED! MY BLOOD SHALL STAIN YOUR LIFE AND YOUR SOUL WILL BE CONSUMED BY ME, ASSASSIN! AND THIS TIME, NO HUNTING LIMIT WILL KEEP ME FROM PASSIN'! I WILL DESTROY YOU FOREVER AND WHATEVER YOU LEAVE BEHIND FROM YOUR FEMUR!'"_

"'I burned her pieces into ashes, but I dreaded her words. I tried searching her domain, but I could find nothing other than hanging ragdoll versions of her victims. After the rulers thanked me for my 'heroism' with money and the promise to never interfere with my Bergen business, I didn't go back to Bergen Town right away. I tried to go to different kingdoms to search up on local legends and theories about the Beldam and the Aracdames. Sadly, I had to eventually go back, and in rough times! The Troll Prince went nuts and now I have to bury away his cursed Night Soul Tree! As I am writing, some architect friends of mine are constructing the chamber where I will hide the Night Soul Tree and the chest holding all my research on the Beldam. My descendants, if you are reading this, than it can only mean two things. One, karma might have skipped our generations all the way up to you, and two, you shouldn't have left the well uncovered.'"

" _Left the well uncovered_?" Gladiola and Feige said in unified dread.

The locked doors of the throneroom suddenly began to shake from the other side. Poppy and Branch shielded Gladiola while the others stood on point and the guards pointed their spears at the door as it shook even more.

"Remind me again why your boyfriend's ancestor had the _genius_ hiding of hiding his chest in the same well where he locked up _whatever_ is behind that door?" Sean asked Feige.

Something broke between the doors. A ghastly four-fingered hand that looked so extended and rotten, it couldn't be human. Its black nails scratched on the wood, scarring it until it clutched that wood and ripped it away, dragging the doorknob with it. The doors were pushed away so slowly and whatever was on the other side came inside the throneroom.

The whatever in question was actually a pack of twenty rats, each as tall as a Bergen. Their furs were tainted by a dirty brown sand color that made their coating look more like sand than fur, and while they had the paws of rats, they held out their menacing metal arms and legs like humans. Their mouths were full of teeth shaped like needles, their tongues forked as those of a snake, and their tails looked like they were replaced by those wires that you put in dental braces. Black buttons replaced their eyes.

"Rats." Shan Yu held out his sword.

"That's obviously specific," Branch pointed out.

"Not any rats. Use a capital R to refer this kind in particular. That's their name. The Rats. The Aracdames' most loyal pets."

The Rats hissed viciously and began to walk menacingly towards them.

"More like pests," Feige commented.

 _Meanwhile, in some area outside of Villainapolis_

A blonde girl in a red trench coat, black vest, purple pants, white stockings, orange gloves and chunky heels straightened her gray Fedora hat and raised her whip at her servants.

"Hurry it up already!" She shouted.

Her servants grunted and lifted the heavy crates, glass containers, and metal cages holding various animals onto a merchandise boat. It unleashed out an impatient smoke spit.

"I thought your family specialized in donkeys only."

The blonde girl smirked and turned to see a figure shielded in the shadows of her black hooded cloak. White buttons rested on her chest. "Otrera Beldam," the blonde girl smirked and bowed. "My family has always looked up to your ensnaring ways."

"My pleasure. Asina Cocchiere, is it?" Otrera asked.

"One and only." Asina lifted her hat.

"What's with all the animals? I was expecting a bunch of jackasses when I arrived in your lair, but I've seen quite the menagerie. I could have sworn I saw dozens of hyenas," Otrera said in confusion.

"It's called expanding the family business. My same gender species family had a knack for tricking stupid little boys, I thought I would expand the family business." Asina waved her hand holding her whip at the merchandise boat. "The specimens are going to markets, zoos, pet shops, circuses, farms, churches, castles, and textile factories. The textile factories are my personal favorites."

"For the delight of watching the helpless idiots get killed for their hides that are then sold to the market?" Otrera smirked under her hood.

"See my coat and vest?" Asina clutched her clothing in pleasure. "Stupid children constantly trying to play slippery around their teachers to avoid homework and stealing from the charity bins. They got turned into a weasel and a python. The dirty poacher who bought them from along with other of those goods gave me this coat and this vest. I don't think my 'grateful customers' are aware that their victims I wear are actually dead children." Asina chuckled viciously.

"You and I share the same taste in exploiting brats for our own good," Otrera said. "Luck has led us to meet. I was worried it was your father I'd be dealing with, but your sadism relieves me. I have a proposition for you."

"So, an Aracdame has come to Asina Cocchiere to feast on a child? I might have some victims that might interest you..."

"You're generous, but I actually don't want any of your victims. Let's walk. Away from unwanted ears."

Asina nodded and barked at her servants to keep hauling the animals in the boat. She and Otrera walked down the platform and went to a less occupied area of the lair where only the water drops on the stalactites could hear them. "If you aren't here for my animals, than what can I help you with, Otrera?" Asina asked.

"I have a situation in my lifelong plan. You see, after years of searching, I finally land on the chosen victim that will put an end to my need on living on a child soul diet. And what's my problem? Let's just say that now the Hun Elites have recruited a Troll girl who is annoyingly good at getting close to figuring out my plan and now I found out through my mother's Rats that they have made a truce with the Trolls... and I also have started hunting Troll children on the side of my plan."

"I thought your species hated Trolls," Asina frowned.

"True, but when their Troll Tree died out, the Trolls have become internally dull on the inside. After testing it on five children and successfully devouring them, I realized that eating a Troll not only brings happiness but good luck! These beasts are so used to relying on cheers and happiness like a limp to crutches, they are willing to jump into the arms of a seemingly friendly stranger who offers treats and entertainment! Imagine it! I normally get lucky enough to catch and kill one child a year minimum, but with Trolls? I ate five children in one week and I am feeling darn lucky!"

Asina whistled. "Quite the record. But what does it have to do with me?"

"People desperate for happiness are bound to fall into the wrong hands. You can lure twenty boys away from their towns and turn them into animals that are sold away to the other side of the world, but by helping me, you could easily lure _an entire population_ 's children into your trap and make an enormous fortune out of the good luck they bring. And when my plan is complete? I can eat whatever I want, it doesn't have to be children anymore, but I could leave out a great majority for you."

Asina rubbed her chin with her hand holding her whip. "An endless supply for my market? New wealth that could make me a billionaire? I like it. But what would I have to do if I accepted?"

Otrera smirked under her hood.


	8. The Stone Foundation

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 8: The Stone Foundation

Back when Feige was at the Hun station getting ready to go through the portal to Bergen Town, she didn't realize that Dårlig left the apartment around 3am, dressed in a raincoat and clutching to his oyster in his pocket while making his way across town to the Stone Foundation. He managed to catch one of the night shuttles heading to town and he still had two and a half hours or something until dawn.

The entrance to the Stone Foundation wasn't too far to catch. In a roundabout with a fountain of Medusa, a tiny set of Spanish steps led to an alley that appeared sealed off with wooden blanks barricading the way. Red words were painted on top of the boards:

 **STONE FOUNDATION. HOME OF BLACK MARKET CROOKS. STEP INSIDE ONLY IF ON BUSINESS OR SHOPPING.**

Because this was the definite hangout for kids wanting to go to a nightclub.

Dårlig walked down the steps and cautiously crawled under the boards. Unexpected fog welcomed him from this side. Footsteps were heard coming towards him.

"Ticket?" A man asked.

Dårlig stuck his hand out of his pocket and cracked the oyster open to show the black pearl. Whatever was hiding in the mist made a grunting noise before grabbing the pearl, attaching it with a string, and placing the new necklace around Dårlig's neck. All of a sudden, the fog began to clear out and Dårlig could now clearly see a network of brick roads and ancient colonial houses, either in good shape, in debris, or held up with whatever makeshift pillars one could find.

"Welcome to the Stone Foundation," the man said. "Never remove your necklace while you're here. If you're lost in the fog, you'll get robbed. If you wear the black pearl, the others will see you as their brother and leave you alone."

"I need to go to the Crooked Mill," Dårlig said.

"Will ain't awake."

"It's a surprise visit."

"In that case, go five alleys to the left, two the right, and follow that pattern until you start seeing a large space full of gypsy tents. They're neighbors with the Crooked Mill."

Dårlig thanked the man and proceeded to make his way through the directions that he was given. Normally, it is ill advised to follow the instructions of a stranger that you just met in an unsafe neighborhood in an unsafe city. Villainapolis has its charms and hidden dangers and deceptions like any other city. Back in the old horrible years of his life, he learned that his childhood home, Baltimore, was not exactly the 'charm city' as it is claimed in those pamphlets one gives to tourists. May neighborhoods are struck by poverty and possible criminal attacks, one had to make sure they never walked alone in a dark lit street. It took Dårlig seven months of getting accosted by burglars in Baltimore alleys that he resorted to bringing a knife strapped to his belt. With the defensive and also offensive weapon on him, he was easily mistaken for a serial killer from one of those Jack the Ripper movies and made his tranquil way around ever since.

The Stone Foundation was nothing like the sinister alleys in Baltimore. The neighborhood's church rang its bell four times in a tranquil manner. If the local black market crooks weren't sleeping in whatever houses they lived in, others were beginning to open up their shops or trades. Dårlig had to duck when crossing paths with a merchant as the latter pushed donkeys off his truck and into the stables. He crossed one of the designated alleys, which looked like an outdoor art gallery full of wanted posters.

He finally reached the area where the gypsy tents crowded at the heart. The church where the bell ringing came from stood on Dårlig's left. In the mist, the shadow of the Crooked Mill stood above them.

Not quite certain on how to get through the gypsy tents, Dårlig first went inside the church, a grey four-stories building with each window covered by black curtains with silver Holy cross patterns. He knocked on the thick oak doors that seemed to emit a ghastly odor of garlic. One of the doors opened and a human girl peeked her head out. She looked like she could be Feige's age. She wore a white tank top, tie-dyed jeans, flip-flops, and an assortment of golden bracelets, loop earrings, multicolored rings, and a purple headband. Her right arm had a jester tattoo and her tanned skin had purple eyeshadow and magenta lipstick.

"What brings you here, _mora_?" The girl asked in her Romani accent.

"Huh?"

" _Mora_ means 'friend'. I see you're a newcomer to the Stone Foundation. Step in. My name is Gitane." She escorted him inside and closed the door behind him. The church reeked of garlic odor worse than the doors did. Dårlig had to cover his nose as he stepped into the floor's main room, a praying room with a silver altar, gypsy carpets the size of yoga mats resting on the white marble floor, stained glass windows with fish swimming around the Christian cross, and twelve wooden pillars holding up the wooden ceiling. A grey-haired boy, a Caucasian male, probably a year younger than Gitane, was wearing a black church cloak as he poured water into silver cups on the altar.

"I'm guessing you didn't come here to bring your _pakiv_ to the Lord," the boy guessed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Dårlig said.

"He means 'respect'. Forgive us, _mora_ ," Gitane said. "Charles and I tend to rely on our gypsy heritage a lot."

"Technically, I'm half-gypsy through my mother's side. My father was a churchman." Charles sighed grimly as he handed two of his three silver cups to Gitane and Dårlig. "A _very_ bad churchman." He took the other silver cup. "Cheers."

Dårlig sniffed at the cup filled with apparent water. "I hope you aren't allergic to holy water," Charles told Dårlig.

"I never drank holy water," the young Bergen said. "What will it do to me if I drink it?"

"Protection from vampires." Charles drank. "You're useless to them if you have holy water in you."

"That would explain the garlic scent." Dårlig waved his finger at the air around them. Still, to avoid being impolite, he drank the holy water, which tasted no different from regular water.

"Otherwise, what brings you to our church?" Charles asked.

"I'm looking for my way in to the Crooked Mill. I need to talk to Will."

Gitane spit the holy water back into her cup. "Here for the _Shav?_ I'd leave Will alone if I were you," she said cautiously. Charles quickly did a cross sign on his chest.

"I know, I know, he's a fickle guy and seriously wanted by the authorities even though he makes the most cash in all the Stone Foundation." Dårlig rolled his eyes. "Uh, what does 'Shav' mean?"

"I'll speak clear English for you," Charles said. "Will wants to be left alone."

"But one of the black market crooks, an old man who got his eyes ripped out, died in the alley behind the Brewing Cupcake and told me to warn Will at the Crooked Mill!"

"Why?" Charles asked.

"Well I don't know why he wanted me to warn him, but..."

"No, _why_ are you doing it? A random stranger, a black market crook, runs into you and decides that you are the one to tell Will since he can't as he is dying. What virtue do you get out of this for doing this task?"

"None. A dying person told me to warn someone of immanent danger, I have to do what that dying person is telling me!" Dårlig took a deep breath. "Look, I just want the mess to end. My friend and I came to Villainapolis to finally start a life that we wanted but we got dragged into a situation we didn't ask to be placed in the first place..." He dropped on one of the carpet mats. "I just want to end all of this so that we can finally be happy."

Gitane and Charles eyed each other in concern. Charles peaked at the window again and pulled the curtains back. "We can get you into the mill, but on one condition. You must swear on your soul that you will not tell anyone outside of the Stone Foundation what you've learned or been told. Understood?"

Dårlig nodded.

"Will is no ordinary black market crook," Charles explained. "He is actually Willywaffle Wonka."

"What?" Dårlig's eyes popped. "So he really is still alive! But... why hide in the Stone Foundation and make a living as a trading criminal?"

"I know, right?" Gitane put her cup upside down on the altar and dropped her Romani words confusing Dårlig. "The Stone Foundation is the one cop-free zone of Villainapolis. I grew up here my entire life with my parents and I was around seven when Willywaffle Wonka ran away to the Stone Foundation. He was scared, frightened, and desperate to survive. He wore a trench coat over a hospital gown and ran barefoot while being followed by an Oompa-Loompa. Since they didn't have any black pearls on them, they were mistaken as a robbed white man with his dwarf servant. The black market crooks tried to snatch them in the fog, but for some miraculous manner, he managed to slip into the Crooked Mill. He waited for weeks and observed from the shadows until he could observe how we did our ways of life, and as the months passed, he became an instant prodigy."

"Nobody thought he was Willywaffle but Will of the Crooked Mill," Charles joined in. "Heck, the only way Gitane and I found out that he was Willywaffle was three years ago. I was ten when I myself ran away from home, and with the black pearls I had collected before coming here, I managed to settle in this once abandoned church. Gitane was among the first people to come here for confessions and blessings. Then one night, after I closed the doors for the night, I noticed that somebody was still in the prayer room." Charles twirled his finger at the room.

"Will was nuts. Begging the Lord to spare him from the evils that haunted him," Gitane sighed. "We then saw that his socks were hiding the scars that Otrera Beldam inflicted on his ankles and that's how we knew he was Wonka's kid. He then begged us not to tell anyone of his identity. Until we met you, we kept our promise."

"So he... really ran away from home for seven straight years?" Dårlig asked. "But I thought his father stopped Otrera from killing Will and she got exiled. I mean, sure, the rumors of her returning _now_ , but still..."

"Don't you ever hear the stories of same-gender species? Aracdames, Hollowgasts, Candy Witches, Cecaelias, Coachfolks, Pipers, and other species I won't list further who live for preying on children?" Charles made the cross sign on his chest as if mentioning the species would curse him and he wanted holy protection. "What's the best tactic for catching your prey? Lure the victim willingly to your domain and set your trap there. The child must be lured enough to the point that he or she would be willing to leave behind their homes."

"Unless they got lost." Gitane pointed out.

"Unless they got lost." Charles agreed. "Granted, the Beldams were more... out of mind than the other Aracdames, but they usually lure their victims into their webs fashioned like clones of their victim's regular lives, only better. First, you lure the victim into their web through the child's dream twice, but then the third time the child is willing to go to the web and abandon everything for the false utopia. That's when those spiders strike."

Dårlig's face whitened. To think that Otrera Beldam managed to get inside his head and provide his idea of a nicer Chef, his other Chef.

"But for some reason, instead of just luring Willywaffle away from the factory into the web, Otrera faced him _in his actual room_ ," Gitane said. "So yeah, the idea that her kind of monster would actually break into his room right before he became a teenager made Willywaffle feel like his home wasn't safe anymore. He couldn't stay home, but at the same time he didn't want to leave Villainapolis because he spent his whole life here. So he came here."

"Because he figured that nobody would come searching for him in the Stone Foundation. Not even Otrera," Dårlig guessed.

"Nobody wears buttons or keeps anything that might lure a same-gender species child devourer here. Our survival expertise teaches the children who grow up here to be cautious of such monsters. Never accept gifts from strangers unless you know you can gain profit for it. Parents double check the toys they get for their kids."

"But who can be safe?" Charles sighed. "For some reason, members of the black market crooks have been reported dead and their eyes missing. Many theorize that a hollowgast is lurking in our alleys while Otrera prays for the snobby victims of society. A match made in Hell."

 _Minutes later_

They walked up to the fourth floor of the church, where the dusty attic was. Gitane opened a window, revealing a tightrope bearing lanterns that connected the church to the shaft of the Crooked Mill.

"Can't I just walk by foot to the front door?" Dårlig asked before then seeing why the tightrope was the most dangerous but most likely passage to the Crooked Mill. The latter and the section of gypsy tents were separated by a moat of boiling tar. Barbed wires were coiling up on the stonewalls and the door was covered by titanium boards. "That's a lot of security."

"The Crooked Mill was already hostile. Many tried in vain to claim it as home but they all fled in insanity," Charles said. "Willywaffle somehow managed to turn the creepy place into his home."

"He even dug the moat for three weeks straight. Some of the gypsies of my clan assisted him and gave him suggestions on what to put in it," Gitane said. "He went with boiling tar and added stuff to make it harder for anyone to break in his home. Nobody considered walking on this tightrope to get to the Crooked Mill."

"I bet they didn't want to be fossilized." Dårlig took a deep breath and climbed up on the window. He rechecked the level that separated him from the ground. The minor case scenario was that he would break his leg onto the earth while the worse case scenario was that he would drown in tar. Dårlig was no hero, but if he shared something in common with Odysseus when the latter had to pick between Charybdis and Scylla, he didn't give up.

Dårlig put his right foot on the rope. He turned to Charles and Gitane. "Thank you." He nodded.

Charles pulled out a silver chain with a purple cross on it. He placed the necklace right next to the one with the black pearl on Dårlig's next. "Only the evil would want this off your neck. Never let anyone ask you to remove it."

Gitane took out her headband and ripped it. The pink turned into a dark blue silk scarf with jeweled moons and stars. She tied it around Dårlig's neck to cover the necklace. "In times of doubt in your allies, cover your eyes with this so that justice can show you the truth."

Dårlig nodded and bid goodbye to the church owners. He took another deep breath, and unlike what one would expect, he ran like a madman on the tightrope. Charles bit his nails nervously and Gitane worried that Dårlig could fall with all his speed. They freaked when they saw him run above the tar pit. And one point, he slipped, and they nearly shouted only to sigh in relief when they saw Dårlig clutching onto a wooden beam and climbing his way through the opening of the shaft.

Dårlig managed to hold himself properly as soon as he put his foot in the Crooked Mill. He didn't get the chance to look around when a snoring got his attention. He looked at the corner on his right and saw a makeshift bed with a twenty-year-old man sleeping. Judging by how he was curled up in a drape that was only thick enough to cover a window for a tea party, Dårlig guessed that the sleeping figure slept many cold evenings.

When the sleeping guy turned and revealed his face, Dårlig froze. Feige hadn't joked when she said that the younger Willywaffle Wonka in the picture somewhat reminded her of one of Princess Gladiola's human friends from Baltimore. Only the person Dårlig just saw right now was a twenty-year-old Willywaffle. The old kid's ebony brown hair was messy and expanded all over his face as if to make the hair a blanket. His facial features and height were about the same as the Baltimore Willy, but Willywaffle Wonka had one of those pale skins that people have when they avoid the sun. His physique was built in sturdy measures as if he had pulled a cart meant for twelve mules. One of his ankles stuck out of his bed sheet, revealing white scars on his ankles. Dårlig was shocked. Those scars looked so deep, he wondered if they hit the bones. _Man, am I lucky that Chef never gave me physical scars as much as she gave me emotional ones,_ he thought. _I can't believe that Otrera did this to him._

That's when Willywaffle's nose began to wrinkle and sniff. The boy made a sour facial expression and instantly jolted up. "GAG! What is that hideous odor?" He pinched his nose.

"Gee, thanks, Sweat Boy," Dårlig said drily.

His voice got Willywaffle's attention and the latter yelped when he saw Dårlig only eight feet away from his bed. "You! You're the Bergen from the Hospital!" He said. He clutched his bed sheet and made a shooing gesture. "Can you go?"

"Sure, but I have to tell you something..."

"No, I mean 'can you look away' when I say 'can you go'. I got nothing under this..." Dårlig shivered and instantly turned. Willywaffle wrapped the draped around him and dragged it along as he checked through the opening of the shaft. "How the hell did you get in? I barricaded the front entrance!"

"I took the tightrope shortcut."

"Huh." Willywaffle said in surprise. Dårlig kept his head in place to avoid anything when he heard the sound of a sheet being tossed away. Luckily, a lamp turned on and Willywaffle's silhouette was seen changing behind a folding screen with Chinese dragon illustrations. "So, what brings you to break into my house, Bergen?"

"I happen to be named Dårlig," the Bergen pointed out.

This caused Willywaffle to snicker as his silhouette put on some pants. "Seriously? Your parents must have hated you so much to literally call you 'Bad Bergen' in Norwegian!"

"Yeah. My mother never loved me. I was more of her employee than her son. She almost let Mr. Darwin use me for trade."

Willywaffle pushed the folding screen aside and peaked his head. "Mr. Darwin? The species trafficker?"

"You know him?"

"Only by reputation. He was know for selling off species to slave collectors. He was then banished to the real world to be turned into nothingness," Willywaffle said. "I guess he managed to live long enough for you to know him personally."

"Yeah, he used his magic to help my mother hide in Baltimore and conceive me. He did the same with my friend's dad. Luckily, my friend and I killed them all."

"You killed your parents?" Willywaffle whistled in amazement and went back to the folding screen. "Man, I wish I had your guts. Not to kill my dad, of course, but at least I would have killed the beast that gave me my scars."

Dawn brought its sunrays through the opening of the shaft and illuminated the glass bottles hanging from the willow tree. Dårlig stared in awe as the light reflected in shades of pink and blue, illuminating the Crooked Mill and revealing the treasures it held on its floors: carpets, lanterns, weapons, antique toys, spinning wheels, colorful fabrics, exotic jewelry, illustrated vases, and other wonders.

"Wow," was all he could say.

"I gain a lot in my trading." Willywaffle stepped out of the folding screen with a dark maroon medieval shirt, black pants, and leathered boots. His belt holding the black pearl word 'WILL' gleamed. Dårlig caught sight of Willywaffle holding his twelve-stoned star pendant and suddenly change his brushed hair color into a silver color. With the black eyeshadow he had on his face, he looked like a goth.

"That stone... it's an Everlasting Gobstopper, isn't it?" Dårlig asked Willywaffle as he followed him downstairs.

"The first one my dad ever made. I stole it as a reminder of home when I ran away from home. I didn't quite expect it to give me hair color capacities. Very practical when I want to go around in different places and I don't want people to recognize me." He then pinched his nose in disgust and Dårlig imitated him in mutual agreement. "Loom! Tell me you didn't make another one of your cocoa and kidney beans soup for breakfast!"

"Loom felt good mood today," the Oompa-Loompa said as he stirred in the cauldron. "Special occasion. Gloomy Bergen visit, Gloomy Bergen get special welcome breakfast!"

The boys covered their mouths to avoid hurling. "Gloomy Bergen need tell you something!" Bergen ended up talking like the Oompa-Loompa as he reminded Willywaffle.

"Tell me that after we get away from this foul odor!" Willywaffle dragged Dårlig to a trapdoor leading underground.

 _Later_

They stopped under the shadows of an olive tree. Shortly after they purchased some sandwiches to eat, they had arrived at what appeared to be some kind of market by the bay. It wasn't exactly a grocery market like the one Mrs. Hexe had taken Dårlig to, but more like a flea market for all black market crooks and possible customers.

Dårlig double-checked that his scarf was well wrapped around his head to shield his face from anyone who might notice him. Meanwhile, Willywaffle unloaded a couple brown bags he had brought with him when he left the Crooked Mill: close to twenty diamond jewelry, preserved paintings, folded napkins, polished Viking hammers, boxes of cigarettes, Latin encyclopedia's and a carton of rum.

"I still can't believe that Paul's dead," Willywaffle said grimly as he set the stuff by the tree. Paul was the name of the late black market crooked who had begged Dårlig to warn Will. "And it's been happening in a couple alleys in the Stone Foundation."

"Maybe Paul wronged someone?" Dårlig suggested.

"Couldn't be. Paul was just some honest black market dealing with alcohol. Heck, if I'm not swindling some grocery store owner to get some alcohol, he usually hands me one for free." Willywaffle pulled out one of the rum bottles and uncorked it.

"Aren't you selling that?" Dårlig pointed at the bottle Willywaffle was now drinking from.

"Evidently not." Willywaffle pushed aside the carton and tucked the bottle in his pocket. "Normally, I'd bring Loom with me to the Friday Stone Foundation Flea Market but due to the circumstances, you'll have to substitute him. If it's a customer, offer to sell at a price no higher than 50 bights. If it's a black market crook, demand a trade. One valuable in exchange for another valuable. A trade can only be offered if each thinks that the object they want will bring them cash to the next customer."

Dårlig nodded in understanding. Just then, a man in desert clothing came in riding a donkey-pulled cart full of goods. "Will!" The man waved, revealing a cuff bracelet with embedded black pearls.

"Azari! So nice to see you again!" Will shook hands with the dealer as soon as the latter got off his cart. Meanwhile, Dårlig went to pet the donkey and offered it a piece of his sandwich's bread. The creature devoured the bread and cuddled in Dårlig's hands with a bray of relief.

"I see you made Sabrina happy." Azari patted Dårlig's shoulder. "Girl likes to get rewarded for her hard work."

"Sabrina? Azari, what happened to Joan?" Willywaffle asked. "You sent another one of your jackasses to the butchers?"

"Why, what happened to Joan?" Dårlig scratched behind Sabrina's ears. The creature acted like it was really enjoying this.

"Joan was this very fine donkey that I purchased from some merchant," Azari explained. "I travel a lot and I always bring back goods from the places I've visited. Most of the donkeys I get are during my travels, but for some reason they hardly last more than a week."

"I thought donkeys were strong beasts of burden," Dårlig said.

"Yes, but I think that the merchants who sell them to me are the ones who treated them so badly, my donkeys end up dying and all I have them do is pull my cart. After five donkeys I purchased from one merchant in Eviladelphia died of ridiculous exhaustion, I changed to another merchant in St Perilsburg and the two donkeys I got kept wobbling and collapsed. Last donkey I got, Joan, was from a merchant in San Foulisco and she ended up limping. All of them had to be sent to a butcher."

"Sabrina looks in good shape." Dårlig kept caressing the donkey.

"I do my best to make sure my donkeys are well-nurtured. So far I think that Sabrina is strong enough to not die, so she's working hard."

"Azari, you're obviously being tricked out of your flights. Don't you think you should resort to more local and trustworthy farms to get your livestock?" Willywaffle said.

"I'd rather not." Azari began to walk through the goods. "Viking hammers. Interesting. I have carpets, abandoned lamps, bottles of Vicece Wine, Southern masks, seeing stones, fishhooks, dragon teeth necklaces, seashells, and moonstones."

"Could we have a look at the stones and seashells?" Dårlig asked.

"Good idea. I bet when grinded, they can make perfect paint," Willywaffle nodded.

"Oh..." Dårlig tilted his head to hide a blush.

"Young fellow has a special lady! I might just have the things!" Azari went through his moving bazaar and pulled out three brown boxes concealing cushioned seashells, moonstones, and seeing stones. Willywaffle was rubbing his hands eagerly while Dårlig was having a hard time deciding.

"How about three Viking hammers for the trade of these boxes?" Dårlig offered.

"Young fellow makes good deals!" Azari eagerly handed the boxes to Dårlig and started picking out a golden, a silver, and a copper among the Viking hammers. "Very nice making business with you. See you at the next trading flea market!"

Sabrina pulled the cart and Azari went off.

"Wow. You are good at deals," Willywaffle said in admiration.

"It's like second nature for me." Dårlig went through the mineral goods and put aside several colorful seashells, bright purple moonstones, and one deep green seeing stone. He used the plastic wrap of his sandwich to stash them in for safety. "Feige will love these. Maybe I can make a necklace out of the green stone for her."

"I hear they bring good fortune." Willywaffle nodded.

The trading and selling went on. Many rich customers offered more than 50 bights for the jewelry. Some traded the paintings for black pearls or jaguar rugs. A count purchased the cigarettes for 30 bights and instantly smoked them as he left off. Two people came for the Latin encyclopedias, one a clerk who bought one for 47 blights and a black market crook who traded the rest for a stuffed parrot. The trading and selling when on all the way to lunchtime. Dårlig went back to the Crooked Mill with Willywaffle, feeling like he had some actual fun for the first time in his life with a new friend.

As Loom made a more decent lunch with beef Bolognese and Willywaffle organized the goods he earned at the flea market in the end (bottles of alcohol, a kit for sculpting, trading cards of famous paintings, Romani scarfs, a sabre, five hourglasses, and the remaining seashells, moonstones, and seeing stones), Dårlig used some yellow thread, black pearls, and some loose rubies to make a necklace out of the green seeing stone that he had selected.

"You think she'll like this?" Dårlig asked as he held up the finished necklace.

Willywaffle looked away from the barrel that he was filling with alcohol. "I'd be dumb to not accept it if I were a girl," he said. He grabbed a mug and filled it with the stuff from the barrel.

"I still can't believe that the number one con artist in this town is a drunk ex-chocolatier heir," Dårlig remarked while Willywaffle filled up two more mugs.

"And you're the son of a dead sadistic Troll hunter Bergen chef. Yet here we are." The latter placed a mug in front of Dårlig and gave another to Loom. "Cheers for a great day of work."

"Cheers!" They raised their mugs but could hardly bring the drinks down their throats when screaming came from outside.

"Judging by the scream, I'd say we're under attack!" Willywaffle ran upstairs and looked through the opening. "LOOM! GET ME THREE MACHETES!"

"Nightmare finally happen!" Loom pulled open a closet full of machetes. "Rat found us!"

"I hate rats," Dårlig groaned. He took a machete.

"Not any rat! An Aracdame Rat!"

Dårlig looked at the opening as well. He wanted to vomit when he saw the human-sized cyborg rat attacking the gypsy stands. He held his mouth up until he noticed Azari and Sabrina pulling in on the right side and a vendor on the left side trying to calm down his stock of panicking donkeys.

"I think I have an idea."

 _Minutes later_

The Rat hissed menacingly at a vendor couple trapped in their own olive oil stand. A whistle made the Rat look away and Willywaffle, in red hair, stood there. His arms were crossed and his right hand held a machete.

"Pick on me instead. Or are you just a rat?" Willywaffle dared.

The Rat hissed viciously and began to charge. But what it failed to notice was that Willywaffle challenging him was just a diversion. Dårlig and Loom snuck their way to the donkey stand.

"We'll just borrow them for a moment." Dårlig flicked a blight at the vendor. Loom stood on his tiptoes and unlocked the stand's door. Dårlig crept on the other side of the pen and shouted very loudly behind the donkeys.

" **ALL YOU CAN EAT CARROTS FOR ANY DONKEYS WHO STAMPEDE A DONKEY-SIZED RAT!** "

The donkeys perked their heads up and stomped their hooves. Loom ran out of the way to make room for the beasts that ran like enrage bulls at the Rat, who caught sight of the jackass wildebeests charging at it and ran away. Sabrina the Donkey caught sight of the stampede. Against Azari's orders, she managed to kick off her harness and run at Dårlig, forcing the Bergen onto her pack and running after the stampede.

"Sorry, Azari!" Dårlig shouted. Willywaffle and Loom caught up by jumping on two other donkeys as the stampedes made their way to a narrow alley. Bystanders jumped inside the buildings to avoid being trampled.

"What's the plan?" Willywaffle shouted.

"I'm guessing it's chasing the Rat out of Villainapolis through a donkey stampede!" Dårlig shouted.

He spoke too soon when he realized that the Rat was leading the stampede into a portal.

 _Meanwhile, in Bergen Town_

They had tried to fight off the Rats, but now they found themselves surrounded in the plaza right where the Troll Tree used to be. Residents looked in terror from their windows.

"Does anyone have a miracle that can save us?" Feige said weakly. Just then, a purple light came from one of the alleys. A Rat ran out, followed by...

" **DONKEY STAMPEDE!** " Somebody shouted.


	9. Donkeys In Bergen Town

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 9: Donkeys in Bergen Town

We've all heard about stampedes in our lives and how weird people stop them or get killed by them. We saw a movie where a lion tried saving his cub from a wildebeest stampede. We heard of earth ponies taming cow stampedes and causing a bunny stampede. We all dread stampeding rhinos. And it's very rare that you'd ruin a football game because you were busy avoiding a llama stampede.

But witnessing a Bergen purposely provoking a donkey stampede to attack creepy Rats? The author dares the readers to give her five bucks if they actually saw such a thing in real life, whether they live in a barn or not.

"WHAT'S WITH ALL THE DONKEYS?" Gristle freaked.

He stopped freaking when he saw the Rats panicking and making a run for it when it became clear that the donkeys were stampeding _at them._ Some Rats tried to climb up the walls, but the donkeys just bit the vermin's tails and flanked them onto the ground. Others tried to fight back, but the jackasses brought the beat down on them through hoof kicking. But most of the Rats made the wise decision to make a run for it out of town.

Three donkeys took their time, but only because they were carrying people.

"Dårlig!" Feige ran for the Bergen boy and nearly made him fall off Sabrina the Donkey with her hug.

"Feige? What on Earth are you doing in Bergen Town?" Dårlig asked in surprise.

"I could ask you the same thing. Why are you riding a donkey and..." Feige gasped. "Is that Willywaffle?"

"No, that's Loom with a banjo. Wait..." Dårlig looked at Loom. "Where the heck did he get a banjo?"

Loom: _Oh, riding stampeding donkey._

 _Not making a run for money_

 _Or even hunting a crazy monkey._

 _We can't sing something rocky_

 _And I'm no brain-eating zombie_

 _Because we're riding stampeding donkey!_

They all blinked while all the Rats and other donkeys were busy dealing like violent party animals.

"He hasn't sung in a while," Willywaffle told Dårlig.

The latter looked back at Feige, who had now crossed her arms and was tapping her fingers. "Is there something you aren't telling me?" She asked him crossly.

"Well..." Dårlig scratched his head. "I _might_ have spent most of my day having a guys' day out and used donkeys to chase one rat out of the neighborhood..." Willywaffle tapped on his shoulder and got the Bergen's attention to the new commotion. Against their new fear of stampeding donkeys, the Rats suddenly froze and twisted their heads. Their noses sniffed like whistled and they hissed viciously.

" _Blood of the Assassin_ ," they said viciously. They began to claw their way down the walls. " _Blood of the Assassin. Spill it to the ground._ "

"Forgive me, Sabrina." Willywaffle jumped off his donkey and instantly kicked Sabrina on the butt. The donkey did not take the force of the kick well and she ended up running with a screaming Dårlig out of town. The Rats instantly followed, both to run after Dårlig and also to avoid the stampeding donkeys.

"Are you MAD?" Feige exclaimed at Willywaffle in anger.

"Nope." Willywaffle went through his jacket and pulled out a tech torch and a bottle of linseed oil. He looked around until he spotted a massive metal container standing by above the town's wall that said in big printed words 'SAND. ONLY TO BE USED IN CASE OF INVASION.' "I don't suppose you could slingshot me to that container?" He told Feige.

"Me? Slingshot you?" Feige scowled.

Dårlig screamed from somewhere on the other side of the wall.

"Well we could always do nothing, but Dårlig's not going to make it once Sabrina collapses from running in circles around the wall and she'll faint right under..."

"You're planning on dunking the sand onto the Rats and use the torch and oil to spit fire and heat up the sand into glass, trapping the Rats in it," Gladiola said.

"Not a bad idea, but we'll need more oil," Branch said. "We should have barrels of flammable liquids in the security reserve."

"Let's start gathering then," Willywaffle said as he pulled out a dynamite stick. "I'll become the Rats' personal Sandman."

 _Minutes later_

As Willywaffle predicted, Sabrina was almost wearing out. Running from two stampedes while carrying a Bergen wasn't easy at all, but at least it gave time for Willywaffle to stick dynamite sticks onto one side of the sand container. Once he lit them, it would explode and shower on the Rats.

He secured the string and began to make his way back to the platform. He nearly slipped on a stone but Gladiola caught him.

It felt a bit odd for both of them, staring at each other while Gladiola helped him get back up. Expectations were both confirmed and not as expected.

"You're sure the container won't damage the wall?" Gladiola asked.

"Metal's harder to explode than stone," Willywaffle said. "I only put enough to make a two Bergens size hole." Stampeding noises were heard coming right when Branch, Shan Yu, and Sean arrived with three barrels of linseed oil, alcohol, and nail polish. "Start uncorking." He turned on a lighter and lit the cord.

Sabrina was barely dragging her hooves on the floor. Dårlig jumped off her, lifted her, and carried her over his shoulders. He looked up and saw Willywaffle to walk a few more inches past the container's bottom. He followed the latter's orders and stayed put. The Rats crowded before him with the false feeling that they had him cornered...

BOOM!

Branch used his hair to lift Dårlig up to the wall. They watched as sand showered the Rats, Shan Yu and Sean poured the liquids on top of the sand while Willywaffle torched the pouring liquids on fire. As Gladiola had confirmed, the burning liquids solidified the sand, turning it and its fleshy captives into solid glass. Once the heat was over, the group ended up staring at a twelve-feet tall sculpture of glass Rats trying to geyser their way out. The stampeding donkeys stopped in their tracks to actually applaud at the show they just witnessed.

"That's a lot of glass," Sean whistled.

 _Minutes later_

Citizens gathered around in the town square as Trolls used their hair to drag the glass piece into the center. Some actually lost their dullness and were beginning to make artistic souvenirs out of the sculpture. As promised, the donkeys were treated to a feast of carrots at the stables.

Tension was mixed in the castle, however. Positively speaking, Feige hugged Dårlig after he gave her the necklace and they saw that it suited her. Willywaffle, on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. Instead of getting a thank you for his daredevil plan, he got a Hun lifting up his pants to reveal his scarred ankles.

"Bastard ingrate!" Shan Yu snapped. "Seven years since you left Mr. Wonka and _you stayed in Villainapolis all this time_? WHAT KIND OF BUSINESSMAN'S SON JOINS THE BLACK MARKET CROOKS?"

"To be fair, he didn't feel safe," Dårlig walked up next to Willywaffle and put a supporting hand on the latter's shoulder. "He might not want to admit it, but he felt scared since an Aracdame nearly killed him in his own home... And honestly, he had every right to find his own way of surviving, judging by how Otrera Beldam ended up returning."

"She _could_ have tried to assault me again if I was still in the factory," Willywaffle added. "There's a big reason why I only do annual baths to keep her Rats from sniffing me out."

"Gross!" Genny pinched her nose.

Shan-Yu crossed his arms. "You do realize that the authorities will have to hand you back to Mr. Wonka, right? After all, you're still wanted for running away from home _and_ for unnerving trading..."

"Perhaps we can vouch for him." King Branch stood up from his seat. "Normally I'd be lawful when it comes to dealing with crimes, but despite the past deeds from the three present criminals, we've all witnessed them contributing to Bergen Town's safety. We can at least agree to a truce until they decide to end the collaboration before the case is resolved."

Genny went through her abacus and flipped the marbles. "The statistics of it are possible," she told Shan Yu.

Shan Yu sighed. "Very well." He turned to Willywaffle Wonka. "I suppose we can give you time to decide if you want to turn yourself over."

Willywaffle clapped his hands eagerly. He shook hands with Dårlig. "We should do this more often."

"Yeah, but let's make sure it doesn't involve eyeless old men, hazardous rats, and stampeding donkeys." Dårlig said. "By the way, what are you going to tell Azari and the vendor about the donkeys?"

"That somebody had a carrot hanging on a stick?"

Some of the Trolls in the room laughed at the joke. Even Gladiola, who dissolved among the crowd, covered her mouth to hide her giggle.

"Well, I'd best be off to return the donkeys to the owners," Willywaffle made his way to the door but then turned. "By the way, Dar, what were you doing at the hospital yesterday?"

"Wait. Dårlig, you were at the hospital?" Feige asked in concern. "What happened?"

"Uh..." Dårlig began to sweat.

"I ran into him while I was on my way to steal Colchis Kelp pills. He was leaving Dr. Medea's clinic with the Hexe Sisters and..." Willywaffle scowled and turned his head to confront Dårlig like a clockwork robot. "Tell me... you didn't... _consume_...Aracdame food."

Everyone from Villainapolis gasped. "Dårlig!" Feige was the most shocked.

"How was I supposed to know that while I was unconscious?" Dårlig protested. "No wait, she did have button eyes and looked like a nicer Chef, so..." He chuckled nervously.

"Do you Bergens ever think before you stuff your mouths?" Sean rolled his eyes while nearly all the Bergens in the room frowned at him.

"It can't be _that_ bad, can it?" Gladiola tried to lighten the mood. "He made the mistake once, at least now he knows to avoid it if it happens again."

"I hate to burst your bubble, Princess, but if you put twenty kids targeted by anyone from a child-eating same gender species, only two would survive the Aracdame attack," Willywaffle said. "Dar fell in easily for it..."

"I said I couldn't help it!" Dårlig snapped.

"I know. You know what? Let me explain this in song."

Loom pulled out his banjo and plucked on the strings to make bouncing sounds.

Willywaffle: _Hollowgasts, Coachfolks, and Aracdames, oh my!_

 _They're by far the worst of all, let's not deny._

 _They make a feast of children_

 _Their preys rhyme with million._

 _Their hearts are uglier than out,_

 _But a perfect trap, that's no doubt!_

 _How do they succeed in feign,_

 _Kids are never seen again?_

 _Take kids who hate going to schools_

 _And love to spend their days like fools._

 _Some parents have neglecting eyes,_

 _Or give out so much chastises!_

 _Some kids feel like they don't have enough fun,_

 _In the end, they become unruly sons!_

 _These asses can be chaotic,_

 _They'll be lunch for the psychotic!_

 _Good will give bread and evil caviar._

 _Go to school or have fun with treasures bizarre!_

 _Brush your teeth, or have loads of ice cream!_

 _Go to bed, or play mischievous dreams!_

 _Do your chores, or come play theater games!_

 _Come straight home, or set schoolbooks in flames!_

 _Why would these brutes want to do their chores,_

 _When they can stay up and play some more?_

 _Endless fun was so delightful_

 _But a price ended the cycle._

 _Each monster came with a vicious price_

 _And the kids now see they're on thin ice._

 _The Hollowgasts make it quick and eat the kids' eyes_

 _To punish them for falling thanks to disguises._

 _The Coachfolks crack their whips like Gorgons_

 _And the kids become beasts of burden!_

 _The first two were bad, but the Aracdame's punishment was worse._

 _Her victims have the choice of misery or happiness, so ends her farce!_

 _What price to pay for these bratties_

 _To stay with her and be happy?_

 _She'd sew buttons in their eyeholes._

 _Here's her dinner, a plate of souls!_

 _So kids, never reveal that you're bored_

 _Because you'll regret for what you wished!_

Only Loom bothered to applaud once he put the banjo aside. The others, on the other hand, were stunned. Even the Trolls, who were usually fond of singing, couldn't bring themselves to applaud.

"O...K," Dårlig said.

"Wait, why bring up the Coachfolks?" Shan Yu frowned.

"It worked with the theme of the song." Willywaffle shrugged. He then pointed his finger on the tip of Dårlig's nose. "You'd better sink this in, Dar." His voice was dead serious. "Don't accept food from strangers! What was the last thing you ate before you passed out?"

"Rainbow soda," the Bergen boy said.

"I knew it!" Feige raised her hands in the air in exasperation.

"Feige! Again, your paranoia is ridiculous!" Genny said.

"What paranoia?" Dårlig frowned.

"Ms. Blomstroll here is convinced that Madleb Arerto, Villainapolis' most benevolent resourcist and philanthropist, is bad road," Shan Yu said.

"That's ridiculous! Ms. Arerto is blind!" Dårlig looked at Feige in shock. She merely crossed her arms.

"So you purposely knocked yourself out with sugar? _Please!"_ Feige rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, she invited you for dinner and got you drunk!"

"She asked me to cook for a charity dinner after I came back from work! Forgive me if I'm trying to work more!"

"Because you think I'm not?"

"Not if it means that you're getting rotten by judging people for stupid assumptions! If you had been like this before we even came to Villainapolis, we wouldn't be friends!"

Feige's eyes widened as the words stung her chest. Dårlig mumbled something and stormed out of the doors. When some rushed to the window, they saw him storming into an open portal back to Villainapolis with Sabrina tailing him like a devoted puppy.

"That went well," King Branch said sarcastically.

"Enter Stage 1 of negative effects for Aracdame's victim," Willywaffle commented. "Exasperation."

"Everything's gonna be alright, Feige." Gladiola placed her hand on Feige's shoulder.

"I don't recognize him..." Feige said. "He never used such words at me!"

"Expect that from a guy targeted by an Aracdame," Willywaffle warned. "The first visit will make him feel like everyone exasperates or ignore him in real life. The second visit, he'll feel like he's not getting enough out of his real life. The third visit, he never returns."

Feige gasped.

"Remember the bruises Mr. Bight had when he brought Dårlig back to your apartment?" Sean suggested to Feige. "Maybe he got beat up while transporting the soda and whoever the thug was must be working for Otrera Beldam have replaced the goods with a drug."

Feige arched an eyebrow.

"OK, I can't vouch for anyone on whether or not Madleb Arerto is involved with Otrera Beldam," Willywaffle said, "but rainbow soda is not exactly a beverage commonly sold. Luckily, I know the only sailors who import rainbow soda into Villainapolis."

 _Meanwhile, in the lair of Asina Cocchiere_

An elevator door dinged open. Asina Cocchiere and the hooded Otrera Beldam stepped inside the giant room, an underground laboratory as tall as a cathedral. The ceiling was made of lamps emitting light rays similar to the sun and was held by columns that looked like stone children gradually changing into animals carrying the pillars on their shoulders. The pathway the ladies walked on was in the middle of pentagon-shaped field harvesting crops of diverse flowers and plants that were being picked by mechanical arms, diced, grinded, or chopped in the machines, and then boiled into two giant pots. The first pot was brewing with basil, bay leaves, cinnamon, coltsfoot, heather, jasmine, lavender, and mint, but the second pot was a gargantuan salad: deadly nightshade, mandrake, devil's trumpet, wormwood, fly agaric, cherry, lemon, nutmeg, crab's eyes berries, Devil's Trumpets, wallflowers, snowdrop, gloriosa lilies, bleeding hearts, tree tobacco, and European mistletoe.

"I get most of the botanical imports from Isley-Vanderfleet Corps," Asina told Otrera as she walked her through the lab. "But the final, the _best_ touch, are these!" She held her hands up to her giant cauldrons as if to hug them. "My enchanted perfume and water!"

"Perfume?" Otrera asked from under her hood.

"Yes. I use it to lure in the kids. The scent gives them a false sense of trust in me. I come offering them to live in Pleasure Island and my perfume lures them in like rats to a Pied Piper!"

"Honey lures the flies," Otrera smirked. She walked around and paused at the glass window of the pot holding the enchanted water. Said liquid looked as clear and pure as tap water, only Otrera could smell the fragrant odors of those beautifully deadly flowers. "Is this your potion for transforming children into animals?"

"A family recipe evolved," Asina smirked proudly.

"You modified it?"

"I had to. The family recipe was limited to a donkey-transformation only. It took me about five years of my childhood to research poisonous plants and experiment with them so that I could be at a Circe transformation level." Asina smiled before then lamenting. "I still can't get my hands on Lethe Water, though."

"Why would you want waters from the River of the Forgot for your enchanted water? I thought that the children that you transform lose their capacity of speech and their humanity."

"Yes, but while they look like animals on the outside, they still think like the human brats they once were. It's happened multiple times when a transformed child tries to give out what happened to him and it could lead to my business ending. If I could find a way to put Lethe Water in my potion, the children would lose their memories as human children during their transformation and I wouldn't have to worry about them babbling."

"I have some Lethe water samples if you're desperate but _only_ if you do your job."

"So generous." Asina rubbed her hands greedily.

 _Later, back in Bergen Town_

"I'm sure that Dar will cool down," Willywaffle reassured Feige as they and the others assembled the donkeys to prepare them to return to Villainapolis.

"I hope so," Feige sighed.

"Everybody good? Then let's..." Shan-Yu got cut off when the portal he had opened let a person out. It was a woman in a pinstripe business suit with a black veiled hat covering her grey hair tied in a bun. She was carrying a suitcase and a clipboard at hand.

"Sheriff Shan Yu?" She pulled out her business card. "Erica Chinocase. Agent of MVCPI."

"MVCPIS?" Gladiola asked.

"The Main Villainapolis Child Protection and Inviolability Services," Willywaffle whispered to her. "Totally useless."

"The services' council wished me to inform you that due to your lack of capacity to bring a rumor to justice, they've decided to be more professional," Ms. Chinocase told Shan Yu. "They've decided to collect all the children in Villainapolis and bring them to the countryside, where they will be housed for safety away from the city until the threat on their lives is finally apprehended."

"Which countryside?" Willywaffle raised an eyebrow.

"Just a few villages outside of Villainapolis."

Willywaffle frowned at the social worker. Shan Yu just sighed: "When is the action taking place?"

"It already has," Ms. Chinocase said. "As I am speaking, the parents are helping their children pack and board the buses." She turned her head to all the present Troll adults present in the street. "Is the Aracdame attacking your children too? We can bring them too, if you want. For their safety."

Willywaffle shot a look at King Branch, who easily interpreted it as a 'Don't Be A Fool' look. The Troll King silently nodded.

"We'll have a couple parents send you their children," he told Ms. Chinocase. "If we feel like your 'protection services' are doing more harm than good to our children, the deal's off. If they do go, we'll send in the rest until Otrera Beldam has been apprehended."

"Naturally." Ms. Chinocase gave a small smile.

"I hope your dad knows what he's doing," Feige told Gladiola.

"Believe me, I make worse decisions than him."

As she finished saying that, she covered herself in a purple cloak... and followed the crowd inside the portal.


	10. Pirates and Black Market Articles

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 10: Pirates and Black Market Articles

People are always afraid of something. It usually relates to the things that we see, experienced, or are disgusted by. For instance, a parent fears losing his child, a woman could be afraid of clowns because of the IT movie trailers, and the author is afraid of real life snakes because their movements, open mouths, and occasional gift of venom and killing humans is disturbing.

Dårlig had three fears that fit all three categories. He feared rats, a horror that disgusted him. When he came back to Villainapolis alone, wandering through the Stone Foundation until he got back to the safe side of town, he realized with misery that he got close to his second fear. Being alone without Feige to keep him happy.

His third fear was the most horrifying and as he walked through the sidewalk leading to his apartment, he begged that it never happens. The fear was anesthesia.

Normally, there's nothing wrong with anesthesia. Doctors use anesthesia to keep patients unaware of the pain while the experts do the medical procedures. That way, you're in a space of unawareness and can't feel the pain while they do things like removing your wisdom teeth. But Dårlig never had his wisdom teeth removed since Bergens don't have any. What happened was that he got unnerved seeing a character getting unwanted anesthesia in a Netflix show, Feige tried to reassure him that no such thing would happen, and what do you know, Dårlig finds out the next day that Mr. Darwin used an anesthesia potion on him to have a closer inspections of relaxed Bergens at sleep. Dårlig was so scared, he grounded himself in his room for weeks.

He didn't know if this would count as a fourth fear, but the moment Dårlig got to the neighborhood, people were already jumping on him.

"Goodness gracious!" Mrs. Hexe cupped her hands on his cheeks. "We were worried, young man!"

"Wandering in the Stone Foundation after an Aracdame got to you!" her sister added when it was her turn to check Dårlig.

"I get it..." He sighed unhappily. "I'm an evil Bergen... Can I go now?"

Mrs. Hexe placed a hand on his forehead. "You're getting cold. It would be unwise to leave you home alone. Why not come with us for supper?"

"Sure, why not?" He said miserably.

They placed a hand on his back and gently led him on board the next tramway that made its way to the suburbs of Villainapolis. During the ride, Dårlig confessed everything from the dying black market crook to going early to meet Will. He kept out the part in which he found out Will was actually Willywaffle Wonka. Dårlig lowered his head miserably when he mentioned the part of arguing with Feige and storming off. As for the witches, they admitted receiving a phone call from Charles Frollo, who explained to them that Dårlig had stopped by his church and for some reason came back alone through the portal.

"You should have told us about the dying man in the alley," Mrs. Hexe did chide him. "Next time you see a person injured behind the shop, call us or the police."

"Yes, ma'am," he said.

"Is this the barbaric way your mother raise you?" Mrs. Hexe's sister shook her head. "See, sister, what happens to children not properly raised? That's how Aracdames find easy preys!"

Dårlig shrank in his seat.

"We're only worried about you, Dårlig." Mrs. Hexe patted him. "How about a warm supper and after that, we help you make a nice apology cake for your friend Feige?"

Dårlig sat upright with a smile. "Feige does have a sweet tooth for sachertorte."

"Excellent! We know a good recipe for sachertorte with apricot frosting..." Mrs. Hexe got cut off when the tramway suddenly halted and caused the passengers to nearly topple off their seats. Many asked what the big idea was while some like the Hexe sisters and Dårlig got out of the tramway. The street was blocked by angry people in front of a bus with the initials MVCPIS stamped on it.

"The Main Villainapolis Child Protection and Inviolability Services? In our neighborhood?" Mrs. Hexe was surprised. They rushed and pushed in towards the crowd. "Excuse me, what is going on?"

"Mrs. Hexe? Thank god!" One of the neighbors said. "Your daughter just punched Mrs. Chinocase!"

"Who?"

They looked at the open space. A grey-haired social worker woman was on the ground rubbing her cheek bearing a slap mark. She was glaring at a sixteen-year-old girl shielding a rather ugly, pudgy four-year-old. It took no time for Dårlig to connect the dots: Ingwer was an exact copy of her mother, only younger, more clean, and with her hair brushed to the side without having candy sticking out.

"Ingwer! What are you doing?" Mrs. Hexe walked towards her daughter while Mrs. Hexe's sister ran to pick up the pudgy child.

"Mom! The social services tried to take Boggle!" Ingwer said. "Without consent!"

"I was only doing what I was ordered to do," the social worker got up. "All the children in Villainapolis must be evacuated out of the city until the Aracdame problem is resolved!"  
"My cousin isn't a child! He's still a baby in ogre years!" Ingwer shouted.

"She's right!" The neighbors shouted.

"In what universe do you think our children will be safer?"

"Yeah! Who's to say that the Aracdame won't just walk up to them once they leave our houses to go out of town?"

"It is the rule of the MVCPIS..." Mrs. Chinocase said.

"Is that so?"

All eyes turned on Dårlig, who dared to speak up. "If the social services really wanted the safety of the children, they would have given the families advanced warnings through the media. The parents should have given time to make the decision of keeping their children or sending them away for safety. All I see now are uniformed people forcing children into buses without the parents' consent."

"Bergen, I can assure you that the Main Villainapolis Child Protection and Inviolability Services are very serious in the welfare of..."

"Really? In that case, may the parents see the legal papers?" Dårlig held out his hand.

"Le... legal papers?" Mrs. Chinocase blinked behind her veil.

"Yes. If the services are to provide abroad protection for the children, then the parents must be able to have a copy of the guaranteed services. For instance, contacts and addresses of where the children will stay so that parent and child can keep in touch. You know, to make sure the kids are alright, if they need anything, or if the parents can send care packages."

"Well..."

"And education! The papers should say which schools they'll attend during their stay or if they're homeschooled. Are there local doctors to take care of them? Do the children need visas for traveling? Where can they get money to get supplies or food?" Dårlig fidgeted his fingers. When Mrs. Chinocase looked like she was sweating, Dårlig scowled. "You're telling me that the social services did not prepare the legit papers? And you expect these people to just _hand_ you their kids as if they are..." He gasped. "I hope you aren't a front for child trafficking!"

"Child traffickers!" The neighbors shouted.

"Now, now..." Mrs. Chinocase tried to soothe the angry mob that was growing.

"The Bergen's right!" Ingwer said. "Unless you guys have papers to confirm consent, we'll make sure that Lady De Mort hears of this!"

"Please, not Lady De Mort!" Mrs. Chinocase begged. She immediately knocked on the bus door and ordered the children inside to go back to their parents. Many children were relieved to go back to familiar faces.

"You'll pay, Bergen," Mrs. Chinocase growled at Dårlig.

"Yeah, when donkeys start singing like Eddie Murphy," Dårlig shrugged. "And FYI, to avoid racism, call me Dårlig Bergen."

Chinocase stormed into the bus and slammed the doors. The vehicle drove off into the horizon and the people rejoiced.

"Celebration neighborhood evening picnic!" Ingwer called out. "For tonight's hero, Dårlig Bergen!"

 _Sundown, at the docks of the Stone Foundation_

The sun was setting on the bay. Willywaffle helped Gladiola get on the boat with Feige. Once he put his foot on board, he grabbed an oar and started rowing. Soon enough, the city turning on its lights began to disappear in the mist.

"The sailors I know have their boat shipped in a cave outside of town," Willywaffle said.

"I can't see a thing with that mist ahead!" Feige complained.

"You honestly think I'd give you the tool you need to see through the mist that shields my type? If I had, you'd rat out the location to the sheriff." Willywaffle rowed to the right, just in time to avoid a sea rock.

"Are your friends pirates?" Gladiola asked. She came cloaked to make sure no one would recognize her as royalty... or maybe to avoid provoking much attention to her short hair.

"I hope you aren't scared of some fair, illegal merchants," he said with a small smirk. The mist increased, but as Willywaffle kept rowing, it cleared up, revealing the open smell of salt water and a massive cave entrance. Just five feet away, a massive black pirate ship with silver linings was safely anchored, its sails rolled up. Willywaffle got their minuscule boat right under what seemed to be the lit up captain's cabin. He raised his oar and started tapping it on the hull in a rhyming fashion. He paused and looked up. No one answered. He repeated the tune a little louder, only louder. Still no answer.

"Are you using the rhythm of 'The Elegant Captain Hook'?" Feige asked.

"Yes," Willywaffle said.

"Keep hitting. But louder."

Willywaffle did so and Feige whistled the tune so loudly, her echo bounced on the cave's walls. This finally got the attention from the captain's cabin. A window was pulled open and a rope ladder came out. Then, a young girl's head stepped out.

"I say, Will. Is that you?" the girl asked.

"Yes, Jane." Will curtsied. "I need to talk to you about your rainbow soda imports."

 _Minutes later_

Two members of the pirate crew, Jonathan Sparrow and Bucanero Angelica, hauled up the massive crates onto the deck under the watchful eyes of the guests, Captain Jane Hook, her second-in-command and boyfriend Forkjølelse Vinter, and the rest of the crew. Jonathan used a pry bar to pull off the lids. Will gasped at the sight of the hundreds of rainbow soda bottles piled up in the two to three crates.

Gladiola took a sniff and gagged. "Yuck! The odor is revolting! How much sugar is in there?"

"None," Jane said.

"But your sodas are known for being overly sugared," Feige said crossly.

"Because rainbow sodas aren't naturally sugary," Jane said. "Most cakes people find in pastry shops aren't natural. They're only sugary because the confectioners add tons of sugar." Jane pulled out a bottle and uncorked it. She held it right under Gladiola's nose. The remaining hair on the princess' head spiked up in horror and she ran to vomit in the water.

"Willa, is the tea almost ready? The chap here will need it," Jane asked a grey-haired pirate.

"I'll get right to it, Captain." The pirate went down the deck.

"Gladiola?" Feige helped Gladiola up.

"I feel like I just smelled acrylic paint mixed with second-hand produce and alligator poop..." She took several deep breaths. "How can you even sell this?"

"Believe us, the people who came up with the idea to make a multiple flavored beverage with all the colors of the rainbow did not get good results," Forkjølelse said. "The originals did not make it to the market, but then the makers realized that the rainbow sodas can be used for two fashions: sweet drinks if the buyers add massive amounts of sugar that dissolve the horrors or antibacterial lotion to get rid of scraps on the skin. Naturally the originals can't be brought to the actual market, so what the fabricators do is that they hire pirates like us to import the bottles in foreign locations."

"We hide our ship and then we have some of the crewmates go on land," Jonathan piped it. "You know, sneak in different areas of town. Get attention of pharmacists or people seeking to make money through junk food. We then bring them to us, they go through our stocks, and they decide for what purposes they'll use the merchandise."

"We charge more when they add sugar," Bucanero joined in.

"And then we bring the customers back on land."

"We then hit the sea depending on whether or not we sold most of the goods or if clients start slowing down," Jane nodded.

"How much time are you given before you must return to get more imports?" Gladiola asked.

"Depends on the quantity we bring. For example, in our current round, we came to the bay of Villainapolis with a total of thirty crates holding up rainbow soda, cigars, fake golden fleeces, sewing needles, Turkish indigo cotton, and fishhooks. We have a max of three months to sell all of this until we need to return to get more imports. We go back in two weeks."

"How much did you manage to get sold?"

"Not much." Jane straightened her glasses, looking humiliated. "I must admit, the black market is not doing well. During the past seven years, our industries are going haywire."

"How do black market industries go haywire?" Feige asked confused.

"Black market industries outside of Villainapolis function differently," Will said. "Their successes and failures depend on the negative aspects they have on authorities.

"Why don't we show them our ship's archives, darling?" Forkjølelse held Jane's hand.

"I don't know..." Jane pondered.

Gladiola, without anyone noticing, clipped off her blue flower earrings and held them out the pirate captain. "Would you accept this as payment?"

Feige and Will gasped at her sudden gesture. The pirates awed at the sight of the moonlight reflecting on the blue jewelry.

"Davy Jones make me blind!" Jane had her crew follow her example and bowed before Gladiola. "I believe we are under the presence of a member of the Trollkonge family."

"You heard of my family?" Gladiola pulled down her hood.

"And a Troll born from a stripped gladiola! But whatever has happened to your hair?"

"I'll explain later. Now, about your archives."

 _Later_

Jane unlocked a door hidden behind her wardrobe using the hook of her belt. The door pushed open and Jane and Forkjølelse led the visitors down a staircase made of silver.

"My old grandfather used to tell me pirate tales of Trolls before he passed away," Jane told Gladiola. "His favorite legend was the one where if a stripped gladiola-born Troll monarch touched pirate treasure and threw it into the sky, he'd be making shooting stars. Sadly, he gave up hoping to meet one when my father was born."

"I'm terribly sorry," Gladiola said sincerely. "Sadly, I do not if the myth is true. But I can always try once I get the opportunity and you'll be the first to see it."

Jane eagerly clapped her hands. Forkjølelse held out his hand and knocked on a door. Jane reassured him and merely kicked the door open. They walked right inside the archives, which was a small room with shelves full of organized books, scrolls, manuscripts, and magazines. A pirate, a teenage girl with blue hair and grey skin and oddly pointy ears was piling up newspapers.

"Got new stuff for our archives, eh, Hermia?" Jane asked.

"The latest that Ariel could get," the girl said. She got up and unfolded her blue wings with golden membranes. Some papers nearly got knocked to the floor, but Hermia quickly caught them.

"Hermia Bartok is the one I trust in safeguarding our archives," Jane did the introductions. "Hermia, Will has brought among his company the Trollkonge Princess."

"Your Majesty." Hermia curtsied before Gladiola.

"Just call me Gladiola," Gladiola said quickly.

Hermia nodded. She got up and noticed the gemstones that made the earrings that Gladiola still clutched in her hand. "Odd. These stones almost remind me of the Troll gemstones Ariel has on her bracelets."

" _Troll gemstones_?" Feige asked worriedly. "How many total?"

"I'm not sure. Twelve, maybe? She stole the bracelets when our ship attacked a merchant ship two years ago. Ariel took a shine on them and she ripped them off the wrists of the original owner. I warned her that she should not keep them. Bearing twelve Troll gemstones is bad luck for a virgin."

"We know. Otrera Beldam started a diet of that type," Will said.

"For good reason! Don't you know that whoever grabs hold of the soul of a virgin who has consumed or possessed twelve Troll gemstones will gain immortality?"

They all just stared at Hermia without blinking. Gladiola was the first one to crack with a laugh, a normal reaction when people think that what you said is a joke. But when she saw Hermia frowning at her in a serious mode, she dropped it.

"We'll talk about immortality later," Jane said. "Hermia, do we still have the black market articles on the industries' evolutions in the last ten years?"

"Which industry are we talking about?" Hermia flew up and starting hovering around a shelf full of papers.

Feige pondered before saying. "Try child trafficking and rainbow soda."

Hermia searched through the papers and pulled out two. She brought them to the table and unfolded them, revealing the graphs and texts of them. "Let's see... There is a rise in both fields. The rainbow soda did increase in mass in the last two years..." Hermia flew to dig through a box of papers. "Let's see... Most of our clientele. Pharmacists, cake suppliers... Uh, the last one to be purchased, which was close to three days ago, was sold by Ariel to a guy she recorded the name as 'Dwight Barron'."

"Dwight Barron?" Will frowned. "I know him. He's Otrera Beldam's hollowgast boyfriend."

"How do you know him?" Forkjølelse asked.

"Well... sometime after the disappearance of Willywaffle Wonka, I found out that Otrera Beldam had an accomplice in her scheme. Dwight Barron is a hollowgast, a shapeshifter who feeds of peculiar eyes."

"It makes sense!" Feige grabbed the rainbow soda industry article. "When Genny and Sean and I inspected at the Viliott Hotel when we thought Kory Lokisia and some of the guests were targeted by Otrera, but then we found out that all the guests except Kory had been killed and removed of their eyes."

"Why would even think that Otrera Beldam would be interested in targeting celebrities?" Will asked.

"Because they all had purchased around twelve Troll gemstones."

"See, I told you!" Hermia raised her hands in the air.

"Hermia, please." Jane crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "Immortality and ways to access it are just mythology."

"Really?" Hermia said skeptically. "Then captain, I dare you to throw your Davy Jones statuette out the window."

While the captain and the archives safeguard bickered, Gladiola unfolded the child trafficking charts. "Wow. In ten years, the child trafficking has tripled. You guys are barbarians."

"Nah, we don't transport live merchandise," Forkjølelse told her. "Besides, the villain community values the existence of children to keep the next generations of evil going. They try to squish down the trafficking, but there's always a crook or two who manages to make business. Have abusive or por parents give up their kids, manipulate orphanage, or pose fake agents in child services."

Gladiola looked back at the paper. "It says that the most wanted fiend for that industry is... As...Asi..."

Forkjølelse snorted. "Asina Cocchiere. Oh, she notorious! Ever heard of Coachfolks?"

"Yeah, I think Will did a song about them. Don't they turn kids into animals?"

"Yes, they lure the naughty kids into a pleasantry trap cursed to transform them into animals. They mostly prefer transforming the kids into donkeys, but Asina enjoys transforming them into multiple animals that her agents sell off to other companies."

"How come you know this?" Feige asked Forkjølelse.

"Oh, there's like a chance out of fifty that whenever the crew and I go out at an underworld pub to celebrate our sail back, Asina pops out in town. Asina is very nomadic and so is her trap. The authorities have tried restlessly to find where her lair is, but when it seems like they found it, it went somewhere else."

"I heard that one time she had lured children away from Eviladelphia, the authorities tried to track her but they couldn't," Jane piped in. "Then, a few days later, they hear that she stroke in St Perilsburg. And after they failed to find her there, they hear of another child theft, only in San Foulisco."

"Eviladelphia, St Perilsburg, and San Foulisco?" Will widened his eyes. "That's the exact order of cities my friend Azari got swindled into buying all of his donkeys!" He gasped. "Shit, Sabrina!"

 _An hour and a half after the potluck_

Mrs. Hexe and her daughter Ingwer walked Dårlig back home just in time for a certain donkey to jump at Dårlig and lick him on the face. "Hey, girl! How are you doing?"

"Aw." Ingwer scratched Sabrina behind the ears and pulled a carrot out of nowhere. The donkey chewed on it in delight.

"I forgot she followed me," Dårlig said as he got up. "I guess Feige won't mind if Sabrina goes indoors."

"It's a good thing I'm the one holding the food." Mrs. Hexe was holding a bunch of containers holding leftover foods. At the top was the dish holding the sachertorte she helped Dårlig make for Feige.

"What a cozy little place!" Ingwer commented when they stepped inside. Sabrina, for an oddly adorable creature, wiped her hooves before entering and began exploring her new home. As Mrs. Hexe brought the food to the kitchen, she inspected the fridge to make sure that an Aracdame could use none of the food in there.

"Did you and Feige paint the walls?" Ingwer asked while she admired the wall paintings.

"Actually, Feige did all of it. She's the visual artist. I'm more of the cooking artist," Dårlig said.

"It's obvious that she put a lot of love in the decorating," Ingwer smiled.

"She's committed, I'll give her that." Dårlig sighed.

"There's supposed to be commitment," Ingwer looked at Dårlig. "Interspecies relationships are not necessarily easy, but through the right commitment and affection, they can last forever."

Dårlig was touched by the words. He was going to say something when he heard the front door open. "Feige?" He walked up just in time for the Troll girl to hug him. "About what happened..."

"Shut up," she told him. Dårlig sighed in relief. They then pulled back from the hug when Feige noticed Sabrina stepping out of the bathroom.

"Oh don't tell me. You licked the toilet," Dårlig said drily to the donkey.

"Uh, Dårlig... About the donkey..." Feige tapped her fingers. "Will suspects she might... actually be a kid turned into a donkey."

Dårlig frowned and looked back at Sabrina. The latter seemed to have understood what Feige was saying. The donkey was now going to a corner to cuddle herself and cry.

"Good grief," Mrs. Hexe said in horror.

"But how do you know for sure if the donkey used to be a kid?" Ingwer asked. "Sometimes it happens when witches turn adults into beasts. Take Circe, for instance."

"I know, but... Let's just say we met sources and Will freaked out when he heard that a Coachfolk had a crime spree from Eviladelphia to St Perilsburg and to San Foulisco..." Feige said rapidly.

"Those are the towns that Will's friend Azari got swindled with lame donkeys." Dårlig then gasped. It was a good thing his back hit the wall. He proceeded to slip and have his butt hit the ground. "Azari sent his previous donkeys to the butcher."

"You mean your friend got kids killed?" Feige exclaimed.

"He didn't know! First he gets tricked into buying five donkeys at Eviladelphia, he didn't like the service he got and switched to a merchant in St Perilsburg, and when it bit him again, he got the donkey Joan in San Foulisco, and this time he had Sabrina!" Dårlig looked back at Sabrina. "Shoot, I forgot! I still have his donkey."

Feige looked at Mrs. Hexe. "Is there any way that you can change Sabrina back into a real child?"

The donkey perked her head up in hope.

"I'm afraid that ever since I moved into Villainapolis, I had to fill papers swearing that I wouldn't do any magic tat could harm young ones," Mrs. Hexe shook her head.

"I could try reaching out to Manny Colchis, Dr. Medea's son," Ingwer volunteered. "We were in the same Potions Chemistry class, and since Circe is his grand-aunt, he might know a thing or two about reversing transformations."

"What about Sean? I thought his mom was a Sea Witch," Feige pointed out.

"You clearly don't know that in his same-gender species, the males are the weakest," Ingwer sighed hopelessly. "Even summer school had no effect, his magic is mediocre."

"He's still a good boy." Mrs. Hexe smiled. "Very polite and dedicated. And _way_ cleaner than the ogres we harbor in the house."

"Mom, we discussed this." Ingwer crossed her arms. "We do not talk ill stuff about Dad and his brother in front of other people."

"Very well." Mrs. Hexe looked at the kitchen clock in amusement. "Well, I must be on my way. I still have a Brewing Cupcake to run tomorrow and you have your job as herbalist-on-the-go."

"Oh, yeah! Sean mentioned that the first time we met him. But what exactly is an herbalist-on-the-go?" Dårlig asked as he and Feige escorted the Hexes to the door.

"It's pretty much a delivery service," Ingwer said. "Many clients order herbs that they can't procure elsewhere and have them delivered elsewhere. Since mortals can't quite handle the strong scents or the irritating holding of the herbs, they get witches to do the deliveries. And since my kind is best at trained noses to handle the odors and hands to maneuver the herbs, we get hired."

"What kind of herbs?" Feige asked out of curiosity.

"Depends on the client," Ingwer said. "Take Madleb Arerto, the resourcist. In the past few days, she has ordered Gargantuan rosemary and mandrake leaves. Gargantuan rosemary is normally used to calm down upset stomachs..."

"Yeah, I did notice she got thinner two days ago," Dårlig nodded. "I guess she needs the rosemary to soother her diet."

"What do the mandrake leaves do?" Feige asked.

"Sleep medicine," Ingwer said.

They gave their good-byes and kept waving at the Hexes until the tramway came to collect them. When the two got back inside, Dårlig went to cheer up Sabrina by giving her a bath while Feige went on to eat the cake Dårlig had made her. Still, the treat wasn't enough to cheer her.

 _Rainbow sodas aren't naturally sugary_ , Jane's words echoed.

 _Madleb Arerto ordered Gargantuan rosemary and mandrake leaves for upset stomachs and sleep medicine_ , Ingwer's voice added.

 _Don't you know that whoever grabs hold of the soul of a virgin who has consumed or possessed twelve Troll gemstones will gain immortality?_ Hermia's voice asked.

"That's it!" Feige managed to annihilate her cake in one slice of her fork. Dårlig couldn't hear her with all the happy braying Sabrina was giving. "That's why Otrera Beldam kidnapped people who ate or were near twelve Troll gemstones! She doesn't want to expand her diet, she wants to be immortal!"


	11. The Criminal And The Princess

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 11: The Criminal And The Princess

While Feige was having her own mental problem across neighborhoods, Will had to deal with a last-minute problem: cleaning up the Crooked Mill and snapping at Loom.

"No, Loom! Not another cocoa and kidney bean soup!"

"But master. Loom like cocoa beans and master need protein," Loom said as he went through the cold cupboard where they kept most of their food. For some reason, Loom liked to store the non-perishables in there.

"Protein! We have enough cow meat to last us five weeks!" Will clawed on his own skin.

"Maybe I can help."

"GAH!" Will yelped as Gladiola appeared out of nowhere. "Man, for a Troll, you're oddly quiet!"

Gladiola shrugged. She pulled out a green book from her collar entitled A TO Z TRICKS OF SURVIVAL with her father being on the cover. She opened the book to the C area and took a peak at the cold shed. "Judging by what you have, the best I can suggest for the moment is cooked steak with a blackberry dressing, garlic bread, and mashed potatoes."

"Sounds good," Will nodded.

"What about cocoa bean for Loom?" Loom asked.

"There's a recipe for chocolate pie." Gladiola said.

"Loom like princess very much!" The Oompa-Loompa grabbed a piece of paper to write down the recipes and went on to get ready with the cooking. Will grabbed a couple buckets filled with water and gave his willow tree some doses of natural beverage.

"So this is where you live?" Gladiola asked as she took at look at all the trinkets piled up together.

"Yes," Will said. He emptied the buckets and placed them next to the well.

"And the willow tree? Was it always inside the Crooked or did you plant it when you first settled?" The princess looked back at the tree. "I mean, it's already planted in earth and has the sun to give its necessary light. Not to mention that with the few holes you have of the roof..."

A rock suddenly flew in from the opening of a shaft, banged onto a pan hung on the wall, and landed in a basket that pulled down towards the ground. It stopped right at Will's head level. He picked up the rock, which turned out to have a rolled paper tied to it.

Will read the note. "Loom, go outside. Gitane is dropping of French Onion soup and baguettes for us."

Loom didn't wait a minute. As soon as he heard the part of 'French Onion Soup', he raced towards the trapdoor. Will got up the ladder and up the floor where he usually slept. Gladiola was mostly observing the dead shaft, the mediocre bathroom, and the poor bed while Will used his Everlasting Gobstopper pendant to change his hair pink and check the window. Gitane was handing the basket full of goods to Loom and, out of kindness, a pouch of cocoa beans for him. Will threw the rock back at her after writing a big 'THANK YOU' on the back. He went back in so that she wouldn't see him change his hair back to normal. The trapdoor was heard reopening downstairs and Loom went back to cooking.

"So let me get this straight," Gladiola said when he was turned towards. "You're a successful underworld trader, you know how to survive, and you have an Oompa-Loompa to help you around, but you live like _this_?"

"Live like a what?" Will frowned.

"A cheap."

"I'm not cheap!" Out of pure coincidence, the plank his left foot stood on broke, putting him in a risk of falling. Gladiola helped him get up. "OK, I try saving most of the blights I get so that we can get renovating supplies on Fangs-Giving, but that's pretty much it."

"Good sales for wood stakes!" Loom pointed out.

"Eh, I prefer the silver." Will shrugged. "But it's primarily for the defenses outside."

Gladiola smirked. "Amateur," she chuckled while waving her book. "My dad spent 20 years making his own bunker. If nothing had been resolved, he would have gladly stayed in his bunker for 10 years just to avoid getting eaten by Bergen."

"T...t... ten years?" Will choked. "Without _leaving his bunker_?"

"Make that eleven since he was willing to drink his sweat." She pointed at the book cover. "He even wrote this book."

Will blinked on the title A TO Z TRICKS OF SURVIVAL until he noticed the sub-caption. _Written by King Branch, the Troll of Bunkers._

"All I'm saying is that you could have considered creating a supply of materials you'd need in case something broke inside the mill," Gladiola said as she stood by the edge of the floor to look at the rest of the mill. "Maybe organize your trading goods in categories so it's not cluttered, dig underground rooms to create more supply areas, panic room, or even an underground garden. Heck, you could even place locked blinds on your window so that people don't tightrope their way into your room."

Will blinked. "My mind is blown."

"Even the dead bark of the willow combined with the right oils can make adhesive glue to fill up your leaks..."

"No, I will not hurt the willow!" Will waved his hands. A yummy aroma of food filled the air as Will sat down on the edge of the floor. Gladiola sat next to him, causing him to catch a whiff of her berry perfume. "That willow is the one thing I've ever seen to be peaceful since I left for the Stone Foundation."

"I noticed that you hung glass bottles on it," Gladiola noted. "It almost reminds me of what the Troll Tree was like with the Troll pods hanging from them."

"It's especially nicer at sunrise." Will pointed at the opening. "I never put a curtain there because the sun rises from that direction. The light illuminates the bottles and creates an indoor rainbow. The reflected lights hit me in the face and that's how I wake up in the morning."

"Sounds wonderful," Gladiola smiled. "And there blue and magenta..." Her smile faltered a bit.

Will couldn't resist the urge. His fingers went on to caress a few of those blue and magenta locks. Gladiola did nothing to stop him from feeling their soft, silk texture. "I know," she sighed. "A Troll getting her hair cut like this is humiliating. How fitting for my case."

"What case?" Will let his hand down.

Gladiola took a deep breath and folded her legs up so that she could hug them. "Let's just say I did mistakes in the past... and my bad judgment is now putting me in a path were I now know I don't deserve the title of Princess." She sighed. "Honestly, I'm even considering leaving Bergen Town for good. It might be best if someone else takes on leading the Trolls."

Will nodded. "Have you told your parents about it?"

She shook her head. "I don't think they'd handle it very well. You think I should?"

"I still happens to me to regret not leaving a note to my father or explaining him face-to-face why I couldn't stay with him," Will nodded. "Even the safety of the factory wasn't enough to keep an Aracdame away from me. But your situation is different than mine. I was at life peril."

"And you think I wasn't?" Gladiola scowled.

"I don't know what happened to you and it's probably none of my business. I'm just the son of a guy who sells chocolate and cares less about the cash. You, on the other hand, are a princess. You have responsibilities to your people, and if you decide to abdicate, then at least make sure you leave it in good hands and in a right state."

Loom climbed up the ladder, carrying two trays on hand and balancing a third on his head.

"Thanks, Loom." Will took two of the trays and gave one of them to Gladiola. She smiled and thanked him.

"This is delicious," she said as she tried the French Onion soup.

"Toast?" Loom joked as he raised a ripped piece of baguette.

Gladiola and Will chuckled before imitating Loom. "Toast." They raised their breads in the air and bit in them before going back to drinking their soup. Gladiola eyed Will when she noticed he was drinking the soup right out of the bowl rather than using a spoon.

"What?" He asked defensively.

"You are _so_ cheap," she said.

"Am not."

 _The next morning_

Will woke to his usual habit, only to freak when he noticed that in one night, the Crooked Mill had changed. Not changed in the sense where you wake up seeing that you're house turned into a tacky pink dollhouse, but changed in the sense that the repairs were done and the living was improved. The leak areas were covered and the rotten boards were replaced with new boards. Will got up to realize that his poor state bed was replaced with a much more comfy mattress and a proper set of brown bed sheets and the drape he once used to sleep with was now used as a carpet. A table was set just next to his bed and a chair held a neat pile of clothes.

His clothes.

He let out a touched gasp when he saw that his clothes had been fixed to look more new than ragged and patched. The black pearls that made the WILL on his belt were polished so that they would shine.

Will put on his clothes, which miraculous got rid of that morning stench. He brushed his hair and noticed that his usual 'bathroom' had been replaced with a much nicer one, complete with a garderobe and a water filtering system that led the cleansed water through pipes that would sprinkle the soil of the willow tree. Speaking of the willow tree, its bottles were polished, making the reflected light sparkle even more.

Will went downstairs to find less cluttered space and more unexpected company. Loom was eating the leftovers of yesterday's chocolate pie (Will had none of it last night) and Gladiola was drinking coffee while listening to Gitane and Charles.

"Um... morning?" Will said.

"There's our awakened _mora_!" Charles raised his cup of coffee. "How do you like your repaired home?"

"Uh..." Will shook his head. "OK, what happened while I was sleeping?" He demanded.

"As a token of gratitude, in one night, our new _mora_ Gladiola fixed the Crooked Mill's interior," Gitane said. "Charles helped her with most of the carpentering while I brought you to the church to sleep, and when we were done, we brought you back and placed you on your bed."

"No wonder I slept like a log." Will turned to say a word to Gladiola and nearly jumped a space back when he saw the princess' state. She looked tired, her hair was messy, and she had deep black marks under her eyes. Will bit his lips and sighed. "Look, I appreciate what you all did, but you should have waited in the morning to tell me about this."

"We told her the same thing, but she insisted." Charles dropped the dirty dishes into Loom's arms. "We'd better get going. I have to make sure the church will be ready for Sunday's reception."

"For morning service?" Will asked.

"Please tell me you didn't forget!" Gitane widened her eyes. "Sunday's the day of the _Rom and Romni_ festivities. One of my distant gypsy cousins is getting married and we're having the party in the area."

"Oh, yeah," Will said drily. "I forgot because I wasn't invited."

"It's a public wedding, no invitations are required."

"It's been a while since I've been to a party," Gladiola straightened her hair.

"You and Will can come together," Charles winked at Will. "No one will be working on Sunday."

"But..." Will began.

"Great, we'll see you two at the wedding! And _mora_ , make sure you treat this one well. She's a keeper," Gitane winked at Will, who didn't get the chance to protest because Gitane and Charles made their escape out.

Gladiola sneezing got his attention. "Maybe you ought to take a bath. I can set it up for you."

"No thank you, I can take care of... ATCHOO!" She sneezed violently onto a napkin that she used as a handkerchief, leaving Will rather startled to see that she left glittery stains on the napkin. As the princess got up, her tired legs gave in. Will jumped in and caught her in his arms. He helped her stand back, causing their eyes to stare at one another. He couldn't imagine how a creature like her could have such lovely blue eyes.

"Sorry about that." He helped her walk up the ladder, just in case she tripped. His back turned immediately to give space for Gladiola as she headed to the bathroom. After taking a brief glance at her ruined clothes, Will went back down and rummaged through the organized supplies of trading clothes until he found some decent selections.

He had to admit, the princess sure had a good way of organizing other people's stuff.

 _Close to noon, at the Brewing Cupcake_

Dårlig put the orders of chocolate croissants and black forest cupcakes onto a tray. Sabrina then went on to grab the grab the tray by her mouth and walk her merry way into the Brewing Cupcake to distribute the plate to the customers. Normally, for health reasons, customers would complain about this, but since this was a place for villains, the customers found it rather cute that a donkey was doing the work of a waitress and went on to place their tips onto her tray. Mrs. Hexe smiled at the donkey and gave her a treat of carrot cupcakes, which Sabrina was able to digest.

Ingwer, who didn't have to do any herbalist-on-the go deliveries today, decided to help out in the kitchen. Dårlig had decided to bring one of his own dishes to the Brewing Cupcake, his honey lemon lavender upside down cake. While he carefully examined the lemons, Ingwer chopped the lavender blossoms and told Dårlig about how she tried reaching out to her connection on the topic of Sabrina.

"So unfortunately, Manny's spending a holiday with his cousin Conan at Circe's house," Ingwer said. "You'll have to wait a week until he comes back with a cure to revert Sabrina back as a child. In the meantime, he suggests that you consult somebody who's experienced in talking with animals."

"Thanks anyway," Dårlig nodded.

As the ingredients were chosen, he began mixing the wet ones.

"So what's going with Feige?" Ingwer said. "Have you talked since we left last night?"

"She left an hour before I did. Something urgent about... her case." He sighed while Ingwer helped him pour the dry ingredients into the bowl of wet ingredients. "I feel like I messed things up with Feige. It's like... maybe Life itself doesn't want us to be together."

"What do you mean?" Ingwer asked.

Dårlig put the cake mold into the oven and set it to heat for 35 minutes. "An interruption comes everytime we try to kiss, and lately we've been arguing a lot."

"Dårlig, all couples argue." Ingwer frowned. "I'd be shocked if I didn't meet a couple that argued at least once a week."

"She also has a completely ridiculous paranoia just because I'm helping out Madleb Arerto for some charities."

"OK, now I see the problem." Ingwer did a time out sign. "Can't you see that Feige is worried that you're spending more time with Ms. Arerto?"

"Like she's jealous?" Dårlig scoffed. "Impossible! Feige and I have been best friends since we were kids! She knows I care for her!"

"Yes, but it happens when some childhood friends enter a romantic relationship and some jealousy cases occurs," Ingwer put her hands on her hips. "Sean and I, for instance, have known each other since our mothers started having us change our own diapers..."

"I did not need to hear that," Dårlig shuddered as the oven dinged. He pulled out the finished yellow-and-purple cake out of the oven and placed it on a plate.

"We've dated, but it happens when one of us gets jealous if we see other people we don't know spending time with us. Seriously, one time Sean punched one of my ogre cousins when he thought I was being harassed when in reality, my cousin and I were fighting over who was the best at iron arms."

"Ouch." Dårlig poured some chocolate fudge onto the cake.

"Point is, you need to show her that you care. Do something that you know she loves and when she sees how much time and effort you put into it, she'll be very happy."

Dårlig paused. He rubbed his chin and thought of an idea. "Feige enjoys scrapbooking."

"You already got it in the bag," Ingwer smiled.

Dårlig smiled. He walked to the front counter and placed the plate on top of the glass displays. "Free sampling for a new treat! Honey lemon lavender upside down cake!" He announced. Customers eagerly got off their seats and took turns to get a slice and taste it. Many 'yum', 'hm', or 'why on earth does this guy not run his own restaurant' were heard.

The front door opened. Dårlig looked up and smiled when he saw Will. "Hey," he said. "I didn't know you liked coming here."

"I don't," Will said crossly. "I'm only here because I need to get some stuff for her." He made space to reveal the person following him. Dårlig nearly dropped his tray full of cupcakes when he recognized Princess Gladiola, dressed in what looked like some clothing he spotted among the black market crooks' trading: a dark blue underbust corset, accompanied by a light blue chemise shirt with puffed sleeves, a matching rah-rah skirt, Grecian sandals, and a headscarf that almost looked a bit like the silk scarf Gitane had given Dårlig.

"Sh... Shouldn't you be in Bergen Town?" Dårlig pointed at the princess.

"Who cares?" She asked.

Mrs. Hexe, who had just finished dealing with customers asking to have the hone lemon lavender upside cake added to the menu of things to deliver to their houses, noticed her employee speaking with what evidently looked like black market crooks, one of them being the infamous Will. "May we help you with anything that's on sale here?" She asked flatly. "If not, you may go."

Will lowered his head. Since it seemed like Will wanted to avoid being recognized for reasons other than just his career, Dårlig decided to play the trick. "Turns out Cousin Gladys decided to surprise visit us while staying with ol' Will here," he said in a toothy grin.

"Cousin Gladys?"

Will and Gladiola almost looked confused as well. Sweating, Dårlig ran to the other side of the glass display and put his arm behind Gladiola. "She's Feige's cousin... twice removed."

Mrs. Hexe adjusted her glasses and had a better look at the Troll. "Huh. She does have Feige's purple skin."

"Hey, not all Trolls have purple skin!" Gladiola said, offended.

Dårlig tightened her grip on her as a way of warning 'drop it'. "So, Cousin Gladys and Will. What can we get you?"

"I'd like to get her something made of berries," Will said.

"It's hard to decide," Gladiola's mouth kind of watered when she saw the shelf full of fruit-based pastries in the glass displays. "They all look yummy."

"We do have free samples." Mrs. Hexe pulled out a tray of small slices.

"Will, word." Dårlig grabbed Will and led him to the men's bathroom. He had Will sit on the toilet and made sure no one would listen to them before he locked the door shut. "OK. Before I freak out, why is the princess of the Trolls with you?"

"Didn't Feige tell you?" Will asked. "Gladiola came with us to help a bit more with the investigations... or to stay away from Bergen Town. Honestly, she's not really sure yet."

" _Yet?_ "

"She's considering self-exile." Will grimaced and crossed his arms while leaning on the toilet. "She already improved my house while I was sleeping as a 'thank you' and managed to learn faster than it took me when it comes to black market crook business!"

"That's creepy," Dårlig said before than shaking his head. "Will, we can't have the Troll Princess here! Her parents won't take it well if she's in the same city or realm as me and Feige!"

"What could you two have done that makes you criminals? I mean, besides killing your parents, who were clearly public enemies."

Dårlig said nothing. His mind was flash-projecting all the things he and Feige had done to the citizens of Bergen Town and the Troll Tree, from effectively manipulating them to him using a spear to cut off Gladiola's hair, turning them helpless and useless. _Out of all the deeds I committed today,_ _ **this**_ _is the one that concerns you the most? Geez!_

"Doesn't matter." He shook his head. "Just... try to bring her back to Bergen Town. Or reassure her parents that she's fine."

"Yeah, I don't know how that will work. Even if she's already capable of handling on her own, I don't think her folks would like her to stay with a guy who's not only a criminal, but who also happens to be the son of a guy with mixed feelings history with Peppy."

"Oh, how low have our lives gone?" Dårlig sighed. They got out of the bathroom and back to the counter. Gladiola was just finishing a slice of the Brewing Cupcake's Bleeding Hearts strawberry shortcake. Against her own royal manners, she stuck her fingers in her mouth to catch the red frosting stuck on her fingers.

"This is too good to be true," she moaned happily.

Will bent down to check on the price tag. "Uh. Only eight blights for a small-sized one. That, I can afford." Will pulled out 10 blights worth of coins and gave them to Mrs. Hexe, who went on to print the receipt. Dårlig took out the cake and put it in a nice purple to-go box with the Brewing Cupcake logo.

"How's Feige doing?" Gladiola asked when Dårlig gave her the box.

"Fine," he shrugged. He bent down to caress Sabrina when she came back with an empty tray. The bell at the door rang and somebody stepped in. Sabrina was the first to react by braying loudly and trying to push the person back outside.

"Sabrina, stop that!" Dårlig rushed to hold back the donkey who was reacting badly upon the arrival of Madleb Arerto. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Arerto. I don't know what got to her."

"I failed to realize that they hired burden animals here," Madleb Arerto said. Sabrina brayed angrily at her.

"Sabrina, in the kitchen, now!" Dårlig said sternly. Sabrina lowered her head sadly and trotted her way to the back. Will and Gladiola looked sympathetically at the poor thing.

"How are you doing these days, my friend?" Arerto asked Dårlig.

"Fine, I guess." Dårlig blinked. Madleb Arerto looked she tried to eat, but only managed to win back a pound. She still looked like her clothing hugged her form.

"I came here to share so distressful news. You see, I heard you got involved against the social services trying to take children out of the city..."

"Oh don't get me started!" Dårlig rolled his eyes. "They had no paperwork!"

" _Unbelievable!_ " Ms. Arerto agreed with him. "I go to their office to express my disappointment, and they claim the agents of yesterday were imposters! Now a good quarter of the city is missing children! I was wondering if you could help me organize a fund raiser..."

"Sounds promising," Gladiola pushed herself between them, "but the last time he got to do a charity-related thing for you, he came back drunk from rainbow soda! And addicting an immigrant is not the way to make a reputation!"

"Mind your own business, joy-rock worm!" Madleb Arerto suddenly spat. She covered her mouth when she realized what she said. Most of the non-human people, whether they were client or employees, gasped in horror. Gladiola looked visibly hurt that she was insulted, but she still looked a bit confused.

"That's it!" Mrs. Hexe got angry. "I've been passive because you're the city's best philanthropic resourcist, but now you've crossed it, Ms. Arerto! My shop does not accept public verbal racism!"

"It was a mistake," Ms. Arerto said. "Please, I..."

"GET OUT!" Will opened the door and shoved her out into Bight's arms. "I HOPE THEY MAKE A BANNER FOR YOU THAT SAYS YOU INSULTED A TROLL!" He slammed it closed.

"We're closing for the day," Mrs. Hexe said. "I can't work when my customers behave like this..."

 _Later, in Bergen town_

Feige was just done explaining her theory to everyone.

"So you believe that Otrera Beldam wants to use Troll gemstones... for immortality?" King Branch said, his arms crossed.

"It's the most I've managed to connect, Your Highness," Feige nodded. "Why else would she primarily target victims exposed to twelve gemstones total, whether they are adults or children?"

"It does make sense," Genny said as she flipped through the book that Feige and the Troll Princess had recovered. "Aracdames can only eat young children's souls and they must be virgins. Acquiring such a restricting meal is not quite as easy as going next door to purchase a pie, but with immortality, the diet would be meaningless."

"And those that are useless to her get killed, like what happened to the celebrities," Feige nodded.

"You are quite the detective," Shan Yu said in a praising tone. Feige nodded gratefully. He then rubbed his chin. "So we know her plan. Question is, where is she hiding?"

The door opened to the throneroom. Dårlig and Willywaffle stepped in first, though Willywaffle took his time in comforting Princess Gladiola, who was crying next to him.

"Gladiola!" Queen Poppy ran to hug her daughter.

"Where were you?" King Branch demanded.

"Not now, Your Highness. Punches have been badly received," Dårlig said grimly.

"What happened?" Feige went to him.

He sighed in guilt. "You were right, Feige. I put too much trust in Madleb Arerto. She's not the nice person I thought she was."

"Again, what happened?" Feige repeated her question, though with a tint of relief.

"That blind jerk called Gladiola a 'joy-rock worm'," Willywaffle said.

Sean and Genny gasped in horror. Gladiola dried her tears while her mother continued to hug her.

"That's not very sensitive to call someone a worm just because they think joy rocks," Princess Calico said.

"No," Willywaffle shook his head. "Madleb Arerto called Gladiola a 'joy-rock troll'. When she calls her that..."

"She meant that I was pathetic and insignificant." Gladiola swallowed and dared to say it.

" _What_?" King Branch scowled.

"OK, that's low!" Feige agreed.

Dårlig sighed. "You were right, Feige. I put too much trust in her... and then her last visit at the Brewing Cupcake showed me that she wasn't as nice as I thought she was."

"This happened in Ingwer's mom's shop?" Sean raised an eyebrow. "The Candy Witch must have been pissed! Racism is prohibited in her shop."

"Yeah, you should have seen Will when he shoved Madleb out of the shop and slammed the door on her."

Eyes were pinned on Willywaffle. "What?"

"You shoved the city's resourcist... for a small insult?" Shan Yu scowled.

"Do you Huns have thick skulls?" Willywaffle exclaimed. "'Joy-rock worm' is a racist slur! Many non-humans use offensive terms to insult other species and increase their superior egos! Some call Trolls and Oompa-Loompas 'joy-rock worms' because they find their main priorities of happiness and celebration system to be beyond foolish! I should know, I saw my own father beat up a customer for calling an Oompa-Loompa a 'joy-rock worm'!"

"Willy Wonka defended an Oompa-Loompa by beating a customer?" Genny looked startled.

"Hey, it happened!" Willywaffle pointed a finger in defense. "I used to play with the Oompa-Loompa youngsters in the chocolate factory when I was little. One time, when I was eight, we were playing ball in the Chocolate Room and the adult Oompa-Loompas were doing their merry work. My father was passing by with a customer seeking to buy a truck full of chocolate, the first stop was the Chocolate Room in the tour, and first thing the customer does when my father introduced the Oompa-Loompas is to say: 'Wow, these joy-rock worms really must have bird brains to be willing to work as happy slaves!'" Willywaffle sighed and shook his head. "The poor guy did not know that my father, a human, perfectly understood the slur's meaning. Public version was that the customer moved out of town."

"Your dad killed him?" Sean asked.

"Accidentally. He was beating him with his cane so much, he went too hard when he hit the skull. The Oompa-Loompas were rather glad when he 'donated' the corpse to the local skeleton key factory."

"Oy." Shan Yu facepalmed himself.

 _Later, back in Villainapolis_

Dårlig came back to his apartment late after politely declining staying at the palace for dinner. Feige, Willywaffle, and Gladiola had stayed behind.

For once, it was a good thing that Feige wasn't returning home. That'd give Dårlig more time to focus on establishing ideas for the scrapbook gift Ingwer had suggested him.

He locked the door shut once he got in and made sure that all the windows were well locked. He didn't want another set of creepy buttoned doll clone breaking into his home. Dårlig began to place papers and stuff to write with on the kitchen counter when he felt his throat getting dry, so he opened up the fridge to find himself something to drink.

His found a new item in the fridge. Thank goodness, it wasn't another one of those dolls. It was a glass bottle full of purple juice with a paper note attached to it. Even before he read the note, Dårlig could smell the scent despite the cap holding it in and licked his lips when he recognized the smell of stoutberry juice.

 _Dear Dårlig, I felt really bad about acting absurdly ridiculous on the whole Madleb Arerto thing. You have every right to make new friends. So, to apologize, I made you stoutberry juice._

 _Love,_

 _Feige_

"Aw, Feige," he said happily. Dårlig grabbed a cup and started pouring stoutberry juice. Without hesitation, he drank it in one gulp. "Wow! I know her recipe is delicious, but..." He interrupted himself. He couldn't resist and drank the whole content right there and now. Purple stains covered his mouth while he smiled like an idiot over his deed. "That was... delicious... HICCUP!"

The hiccup was so unexpected, Dårlig dropped the bottle and glass shards now covered the floor. The Bergen wobbled towards his bedroom door, making a series of hiccups. Light reflected onto the largest glass shard, revealing that it still had some stoutberry juice drops left.

"Maybe I... drank too much..." Dårlig yawned and dropped on his bed asleep.


	12. Pure Imagination

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 12: Pure Imagination

Those from the author's world know, should they have read the book or seen the movie of CORALINE, that Dårlig should have woken up a second time more suspicious than ever. He should just grab a cat and throw it at the Other Chef, right?

Well, our bubbles got bursted.

Dårlig woke up in his Other Bedroom. But he didn't wake up startled or kicking the nice sheets off him to make a run for it. No, he woke up as if he had a pleasant sleep, which was rare. He yawned and got out of bed casually, making his way to the kitchen. An orchestra of fragrant odors lured him to sit at the counter, where the Other Chef was baking some kind of crossover between dinner, breakfast, and a LOT of pastries. Dårlig's mouth watered when he saw the grilled cheese with French toast bread, all carved into a cupcake shape, the bacon curled up like a cinnamon roll, the veggie rolls shaped like cannoli, and the root beer float so thick and creamy, he could have mistaken it for hot chocolate as it slipped down his throat.

Dårlig ate everything up, only dirty plates and glasses were left on the counter. A burp escaped his mouth. "Excuse me," he apologized.

"No need to apologize, my little heather-colored pumpkin," the Other Chef pulled a napkin out of her grey-colored shirt and wiped Dårlig's mouth with it. She clapped her hands and the dirty dishes flew their way to the sink to clean themselves up. "How about we go play outside? I have a lot of fun activities planned out." The Other Chef took Dårlig's hand and pulled him off his chair. "To think that after the next time you come see me, we'll be able to do these things together forever!"

Dårlig blinked and remembered what he was told. He hesitated, but he gently slipped his hand away from her.

"Is something wrong, honey?" The Other Chef asked.

"It's not that I don't appreciate everything you've done... and it's way better than how the original Chef treated me," Dårlig said politely, "but I don't think I could accept a life with buttons for eyes... or a life away from Feige and my new friends."

The Other Chef pouted and nodded her head. "I fully understand, and your reasons make sense. But is a life of isolation really what you want?"

"What do you mean?"

She took his hand and led him to the door. "A not-so-much-of-a-girlfriend who is never around for you, so many who discriminate you primarily for being a Bergen, a mother you killed yourself because she saw you as anything but her son... My sweetie, why would you want to stay with people who can barely spare a second for you being you... while you could stay with me, be treasured by me, and be loved by me the way nobody else could?"

The Other Chef: _Stay with me, Dårlig,_

 _And I promise to care thee well_

 _In my paradise of pure imagination._

She held out his arm and gave him a playful spin before then opening the door.

The Other Chef: _Stay with me, Dårlig,_

 _All my love is enough to tell_

 _You belong in my garden of passion._

Dårlig rubbed his eyes, clearing his sight of what he was just seeing. There was no Other Villainapolis, but a massive beautiful valley. The bay was glowing like a pond of sapphires under the starlit sky, the grass covering the hills Dårlig and the Other Chef walked on were softer than mattresses, the trees grew purple bleeding hearts that lit them up in the night like a Christmas tree, and the sidewalks were just rows of red flowers that bloomed in alphabetical order: amaryllis, buttercup, dahlia, lily of the Incas, peonies, poppies, etc.

The Other Chef: _You and I can play endlessly_

 _In your world of pure imagination._

 _Our lives will be a perfect fantasy_

 _With all our hearts' passion._

A flock of shiny cowbirds flew past them. Dårlig managed to touch one of them out of curiosity, and the flock suddenly began to glow in neon blue colors.

The Other Chef: _We'd be the perfect family_

 _In your paradise of my creation._

 _The real world will never defy_

 _Something that comes right out of my devotion._

The Other Chef rowed a gondola they were riding on. Dårlig watched in amazement as dolphin-lionfish hybrids jumped in and out of the sapphire-gleaming bay. The noises they made sounded more like bells ringing under the waves.

The Other Chef: _It's not such an evil spell_

 _If you want to stay in paradise._

 _Everything will be perfectly well_

 _As we play on 'til the sunrise._

 _You and I can play endlessly_

 _In your world of pure imagination._

 _Our lives will be a perfect fantasy_

 _With all our hearts' passion._

 _It's not such an evil spell_

 _If you want to stay in paradise._

 _Everything will be perfectly well_

 _As we play on 'til the sunrise._

 _Stay with me, Dårlig,_

 _And I promise to care thee well_

 _In my paradise of pure imagination._

 _Stay with me, Dårlig,_

 _All my love is enough to tell_

 _You belong in my garden of passion._

They were now sitting on a picnic blanket resting on a hill. The Other Chef let him lean his head on her shoulder as they watched the neon shiny cowbirds fly towards the horizon.

"You can take your time in deciding," the Other Chef hugged Dårlig. "I will always welcome you with all my love."

Dårlig sighed happily in his other mother's embrace.

 _Meanwhile, in Bergen Town_

For a town that was also dealing with children missing, Bergen Town looked rather peaceful at night. While everyone was just having dinner indoors, Willywaffle was sitting on the main steps in front of the palace, drinking a cup full of stoutberry juice. He waited every 20 minutes before taking another small sip, by the time Gladiola came outside to join him, he had only drunk one-quarter of it.

"It doesn't have a lot of added sugar," Gladiola said as she sat down next to him. When he turned to look at her, he saw that she was presenting him a plate holding a slice of cake with yellow filling, pink frosting, and a blueberry. "My dad made it."

"Your dad, the king, _bakes_?" Willywaffle asked as if this was the weirdest thing he ever heard.

"As if it's weirder than yours making candy out of Troll gemstones?"

"Um. Touché." Willywaffle looked once again in hesitation at the pastry slice. His fingers fidgeted like those of an automaton, struggling to decide if whether or not, he should grab the plate. He gave in. The plate was now in his hand and he dug a small piece out of the slice with his spoon. Gladiola silently watched him putting the piece in his mouth with the latter nearly acting as if he was given poison. Once the piece was chewed and swallowed, his skin suddenly brightened and a smile twitched up so high, he nearly had a Cheshire cat smile. The Everlasting Gobstopper pendant on his neck even glowed, making Willywaffle's hair change in a rainbow of colors until he calmed down and reverted back to normal.

"Well that was... unexpected," he said.

"You stopped eating sweet stuff," Gladiola said, "ever since Otrera Beldam attacked you and you ran away from home."

"It was insufferable," Willywaffle tried to hold back his tears and ate microscopic bites of his cake. "I'm a Wonka, second-generation candy maker! I thought that as a destined chocolatier, I could control sweetness, but after that Aracdame used her own twisted sweetness on _me_..."

"You blamed yourself for not realizing that even the sweetest coatings can have a bitter inside, and even when you try to suppress those temptations, they just come back to torment you." Gladiola nodded. "You were afraid that if you ate candy again, you'd just remember the pain."

"You really know what it feels like, don't you?" Willywaffle asked.

"I guess it runs in my family."

"But you're a Troll. You're supposed to be happy."

"I can be, but I also know when I shouldn't be happy," she said. "My dad's the expert on not being happy. He spent twenty years colorless and cynical when he thought that he was responsible that..." She sighed. "Well, why I never got to meet my great-grandma Rosiepuff."

"Gladiola..." Willywaffle gasped.

Gladiola pulled out a butterfly-shaped compact mirror and flipped it open. Her reflected fingers touched her purple skin's reflection in guilt. "Sometimes, but not always, my dad says that I got great-grandma Rosiepuff's skin. He gets scared easily when... you know, I'm at danger risk." She clamped her mirror shut and shoved back in her pocket. She crossed her arms and pouted angrily. "Sometimes I wish I wasn't a striped gladiola-born Troll and I'd be normal!"

"I'd rather you didn't," Willywaffle said. "I hate normal."

Gladiola arched an eyebrow at him. " _You_ hate normal?"

"Well, yeah." Willywaffle turned to look at the dark green sky. "Isn't it what isn't normal that makes life so interesting? Don't we have all abnormal things about us that make us unique individuals everyday? Life's like a cake, you know? Each layer is a different part of life. Nothing is easy to prepare, but when combining different individual ingredients together, you get something interesting out of it."

Gladiola chuckled. "You could almost sound like a Troll when you say that."

Willywaffle shrugged. "If you don't think about gelling my hair upward when I sleep, I guess we can agree."

Gladiola giggled even more. She then turned her head to the main door from which she heard the echo of somebody calling her. "I'd better get back," she said.

"Right," he nodded and grabbed his now empty plate as they got up.

"I can bring that back for you," Gladiola kindly took the plate from him.

"Oh, you shouldn't..." He got cut off when the princess got close enough to sneak a quick peck on his right cheek. Willywaffle was stunned by how it felt like a butterfly made of soft cotton candy had landed on him.

Gladiola pulled away and smiled. "My thanks for you standing up to me," she said. Willywaffle was too speechless to respond, all he could do was bring his hand to feel his kissed cheek as Gladiola went back inside. His stomach felt like it was boiling with hot melted chocolate and he kicked whatever was left of his stoutberry juice cup. He sighed and walked down the steps.

Willywaffle: _Is it pure imagination_

 _Or such true enamoration_

 _That I no longer feel the same?_

 _Admitting it would be a shame,_

 _Even if the feeling feels right._

He made a stop when he recognized a purple gladiola flower growing with some others by the last step. Willywaffle picked it from the earth and smelled its fragrant perfume, a smile appearing on his face.

Willywaffle: _I wished pure imagination_

 _Could give me this sensation_

 _That I see what I feel tonight._

 _Never had I warmth from above,_

 _I must be imagining love._

He walked up and stopped by what remained of the Troll Tree. No one was in the street to notice him kneeling on the sad earth and digging a hole with his bare hands.

Willywaffle: _In just one day, she came and changed me,_

 _It's just so quick, but she fills me with glee._

Once he dug a nice hole, he held the gladiola's stem upright in the hole and used his spare hand to fill up the hole with the rest of the earth.

Willywaffle: _I'm just a criminal_

 _And her life is royal._

 _Even if trouble's tight..._

Willywaffle pulled his hands back. The gladiola flower he planted held upright and gleamed in the moonlight.

Willywaffle: _It's pure imagination since ever,_

 _But I'm quite positive that I love her._

He walked back to the palace, unaware that the gladiola flower he planted caused the grass to turn into a bright green and the plant itself changed itself into a more peppermint coloring.

 _The next morning_

Note to Willywaffle: never let royalty invite you to stay for the night.

Granted, the bed in the guest chamber he was given was very comfortable and he had a good sleep, but at the same time, he woke up feeling guilty. The comfortable evening reminded him of the peaceful nights he lost ever since he ran away from home... and just the fact that it was Gladiola's parents who invited him made his guilt ache even more. He didn't need the reminder of what he felt last night. He knew he couldn't be with Gladiola.

 _I'll just say good morning and thanks, but I must be on my way back to Villainapolis_ , he thought as he straightened his hair. Or should he stay to speed up the investigation, they find Otrera Beldam, and then he'd leave forever?

"I could just write a letter, drop it at her door, and leave," he said out loud. "No, the Dear John letter mode is too clichéd. I could just tell her... no, I couldn't. I don't want her to turn grey." He paced in frustration. "Why is it easier to run away from home for seven years, but it's harder to tell a royal crush that I'm not fit for her?"

"You could just tell her in person."

"GAH!" Willywaffle yelped. He didn't know when, but the Troll King Branch had managed to enter his room. "Now I think I know from who Gladiola gets her silent stealth! HOW do you even manage to stay THIS quiet?" Willywaffle paused and looked at his mid-closed door. "And how come I didn't even hear the door open? No wait, don't tell me. You put silent hinges."

"How did you know?" King Branch asked.

"You did?" Willywaffle walked up to the door and began to repetitively push and pull the door. Shockingly enough, he didn't hear a single creak. "OK, note to myself: I need the address of your locksmith."

"Thanks. I made these hinges ever since I made my bunker." The king handed Willywaffle a wrapped item. "My wife's token of gratitude. She asked that I give it to you myself."

"Uh... thank you, Your Majesty," Willywaffle said as politely as he could and took the item. "I'm guessing Peppy didn't want his daughter the Queen near the son of the man who backstabbed them?"

"Frankly, your father didn't do as much damage as the one of a certain shapeshifting Troll," King Branch said rather sourly. Willywaffle unfolded the item, which turned out to be a brand new maroon colored jacket, only with golden trimmings and his initials, WW, embroided on the area where his heart would be. He looked rather touched at the gift.

"I guess it explains why Dårlig and Feige are seen as criminals here," he said.

"Sorry?" King Branch asked.

"Their parents? Public enemies number one of the Bergens and Trolls? I heard of what they did, and I have to admit that while some... certain figures at Villainapolis have their own negative take, it's a little bit harsh to for some to think that just by being the child of a specific someone, you'll end up being just like them." He paused. "No wait, not the best saying. Otrera Beldam was her mother's daughter."

"Wait..." King Branch shook his head. "Did they tell you that this is what we thought?"

"Dårlig just said they killed their parents, he didn't want to get into further details about the why the populations disliked them... I didn't want to pester him on the matter, it's not really any of my business. Besides, it's not like they wanted to take over the kingdom."

"No, you're right," King Branch shrugged before then saying, "they just took advantage of Chef and Creek and Mr. Darwin's original plan of vengeance so that they could kill the three of them. They led the villains on a wild goose chase, used Feige's polyringler methods to make us all believe Chef took over and destroyed an artifact destined for my daughter, were willing to have innocent royal staff pose as us to be executed while the two royal families were left to rot in the catacombs, used my daughter's hair to wield her artifact to destroy a poisonous tree, used its sap to create a poison that made Feige tall and freed Dårlig and poisoned their parents, tricked my daughter into using her artifact to finish off the villains as a guise to 'save the day', and when that didn't work, the duo finished the job."

Willywaffle blinked at the massive list King Branch had listed.

"Oh, and while Feige was using her hair to suffocate them, Gladiola tried to interfere, but Dårlig grabbed a spear to cut her hair off. And when she drank the remains of the poison to be at their level, Dårlig made her give up by giving her the chance to hold what you humans call a 'gun'."

"Gladiola... with a gun?" Willywaffle looked startled. "But... why?"

"To put my daughter in a tough decision. She ended up making the right decision and dropped it... and let them go."

Willywaffle let his gift drop onto a nearby chair.

"I'm not exactly happy of having them back in Bergen Town to return my daughter's trauma, but since you seemed to care about her, perhaps you can deal with Feige..." King Branch gave a rather odd smile, the author would be shocked if the readers didn't realize that he wasn't in his right mind.

" _I'll take care of it, your Majesty_ ," Willywaffle said rather coldly. He walked out of the guest chamber, and once the door was shut, 'King Branch' turned into the silhouette form of the cloaked Otrera Beldam.

"How you've grown, Willywaffle Wonka. I still remember those years dreaming of gaining my immortality through your drenched soul. Too bad I already found my chosen one. But at least you can help me get rid of the Troll girl." Otrera Beldam cackled before flashing out of sight.

 _Minutes later, outside_

Some citizens had gathered outside in the plaza. For some reason, peppermint colored gladiola flowers were growing in the spot of the now-gone Troll Tree, and the now green grass was sprouting baby sprouts. Princess Gladiola, some other from the palace, and Feige were out to see this. Gladiola bent down to pick one of the flowers.

"I think you have a suitor, sweetie," Peppy teased his granddaughter. "Multiple flowers only grow that quickly if somebody has really fallen in love."

Feige sniffed one of the flowers and smirked when she recognized the smell. "I think someone who has the word of a breakfast pastry has a crush on you," Feige said.

"Willywaffle?" Gladiola shook her head. "Can't be. We're just friends."

"Maybe he's shy."

Unknown to the girls, Willywaffle stood on the roof of the palace in a spot where he couldn't be seen. He pulled out a silver blowgun from his shirt.

"I haven't seen him all morning," Gladiola said. "Maybe he went back to the Crooked Mill."

"You should go talk to him."

"I can't. I had no luck the first time a human liked me. How is this one going to be any different?"

"Because at least he's someone who can be physically there for you!"

Willywaffle slipped a dart labeled 'DEATH VALLEY LILY VENOM! CAUTION!' into the blowgun.

"I mean, you guys have better luck than me and Dårlig!" Feige said rather upset. "I keep trying to kiss him, but somebody always keeps stepping in and interrupts before we can actually do it!"

Willywaffle put the blowgun on his lips and made sure he got his aim right.

"I know! What if we both go back to Villainapolis, you can tell Dårlig how you feel, I share mine with Willywaffle, we put an end to the Aracdame issue, and we can all get what we want!" Gladiola suddenly gleamed. "Hey! I feel like cupcakes and rainbow right now! I'm back!" She turned her happy expression to Feige, but it turned into a frown when she saw something was wrong with Feige. The latter looked frozen, her eyes and mouth open in horror. Bloodstains were increasing on the side of her neck. Feige fainted and collapsed on the ground. The reaction was so sudden, the dart on the back of her neck slipped into a sewer.

"Feige!" Gladiola ran to grab Feige while Peppy checked the Troll's vitals.

"I can't hear any pulses!" He said.

"We have to get her medical attention!"

Everyone was preoccupied with getting Feige to a doctor, they didn't hear the distant sound of a blowgun falling on the roof's tiles, as its user had left, feeling horribly guilty and shaken of what he had just done. He left immediately to the nearest open portal to Villainapolis and arrived right back at the Stone Foundation. His feet just dragged on the cold stones as he made his way to the main area of the Crooked Mill. The gypsies were just done with the decorations and Loom was blushing as he helped some young female gypsies decorate doorways with flowers.

" _Mora_ , what's wrong?" Gitane asked when she saw the dark cloud that shrouded Will. "Where's your girlfriend, Gladiola? I thought you two were going to come to the wedding."

"She's never was my girlfriend... nor will she ever come back," he said. Some had paused to listen to what he was saying. "A terrible accident happened... Someone... from where she was from... murdered Dårlig's lover Feige."

They gasped in horror.

"Why do that?" Loom asked. "Loom thought Princess and Bergen's lover were friends." He said that as if he feared Gladiola killed Feige.

"Does it matter?" Willywaffle said. "I don't know how to tell the news to Dårlig."

"I can announce the news to him," a male gypsy with a red turban and a black blindfold to cover his blind eyes volunteered. "We can push the wedding to another day. It is bad luck and disrespectful to celebrate the union of two souls when the one of another has passed away."

Everyone agreed. They stopped the wedding preparations and went on to bring everything down. Willywaffle and Loom were about to head back home when they were stopped by Charles and Gitane. Unlike the others, the local church folks did not look like they were in the mood for mourning. They looked more like they were suspicious.

"You two, come along," Charles said sternly. "You need a confession session."

 _Back in Bergen Town_

They looked nervously as Snowbelle and Petite, two of Gladiola's Troll friends, tended to Feige. Snowbelle, being the residential Troll of Winter, used ice to soothe the pain while Petite, being Biggie's daughter and the Troll of Glowworms, managed to use glowworm silky fur strings to stitch the wound back shut and extract the toxin that had been injected behind Feige's neck.

"Uh..." Feige groaned.

"Will she be alright?" Gladiola asked.

"She got lucky," Petite said as she picked up the leftovers of the clinic session. "Somehow she got a bite of something that held molecules of Death Valley Lily."

"Death Valley Lily?" Sean frowned. "That's a pretty rare flower that creates death-like paralysis. They're very hard to purchase at Villainapolis."

"Why would people buy that?" Genny frowned.

"Rough neighborhoods," Sean shrugged. "Some people either use them for self-defense reasons or blowgun shooting on security guards to escape, or fake death. I was almost considering using one on my sisters to get them to go to sleep when I had to babysit them."

"You really have parental issues."

"Wonka must have done this. Who else would be able to afford such rare toxins?" Shan-Yu said rather determined. "The scoundrel!"

"N...no..." Feige groaned as she sat up. "Doesn't make sense. He barely knows me."

"Not to mention that he's on good terms with your Bergen friend," Snowbelle commented. "If he wished to no longer save his new friendship, I think he would have gone with a far more lethal toxin."

"Maybe because the fake King Branch told him to."

They looked up. Mothly was flying on the ceiling. She was another friend of Gladiola's, but she was one of those rare Trolls blessed with wings. Back in the old days, those were helpful to ditch the grasps of Bergens back in Trollstice.

"I would never do that!" Branch exclaimed.

"Weren't you listening? I said the _fake King Branch_!" Mothly shook her head. "I was doing my usual morning flight above town when I flew by Willywaffle's guest chamber window and overheard his ranting and conversation..."

"Ranting? About what?" Gladiola was confused.

"Oh, yeah! He was talking to himself about the feelings he got for you but that he felt like he should abandon them because he felt he wasn't worthy of you..."

"Aw..." Gladiola felt touched.

"Then the fake king came him to give him a 'thank-you gift', but then he all listing the bad things that Dårlig and Feige did, then he was like 'if you love my daughter, then you should kill Feige'."

"But I'm not dead..." Feige began to speak normally. "Willywaffle didn't have the guts to kill me for real."

"No wonder he just used Death Valley Lily toxins to make you _look_ like you were dead," Sean nodded.

Mothly nodded. "Then when Willywaffle got out, the fake turned into some kind of living cloak that spoke like a chick. He or she said stuff about how Willywaffle had grown up, but since she had found another person to feast on a soul to get immortality, she'll just use him to get rid of Feige. Then she disappeared."

"Otrera Beldam!" Shan Yu realized. "Only she would have wanted to feast on Wonka's soul... back when he was younger. But sounds like she found another victim."

Gladiola pulled out the GLOBAL BEASTOLOGY book she and Feige had found. She pulled the page open to where the ancestral Chef had written down the things the Other Mother had shouted to him. "'Curses! Curses, but not so soon!'" Gladiola read out loud. "'When align the moon, I shall get what I deserved! My blood shall stain your life and your soul will be consumed by me, assassin! And this time, no hunting limit will keep me from passin'! I will destroy you forever and whatever you leave behind from your femur!'"

"'When align the moon' means whenever the moon is aligned with the Earth and sun," Snowbelle said. "It can either be a solar eclipse or a lunar eclipse."

"Wait a minute." Genny did some calculations. "There _was_ a lunar eclipse seven years ago... right on the day Willywaffle Wonka disappeared! On his birthday! If Otrera Beldam had succeeded, Willywaffle would have celebrated his last birthday by becoming her ticket to immortality!"

"So there has to be an upcoming eclipse," Poppy said.

"And if we calculate all historical data on eclipse patterns of movement, the next one will be on the second Tuesday of April, precisely at 6:32am," Genny said. "In short, on Willywaffle's 20th birthday, in two-days from now, at sunrise, a solar eclipse will block daylight and Otrera Beldam will consume her victim's soul." Her eyes were wide with horror. "And once she gains immortality, all the realms will become her endless buffet table."

"Yeah, but who is her victim?" Gladiola asked.

"Am I the only one who understands riddles?" Snowbelle sighed. "'My blood shall stain your life', 'I will destroy you forever', and 'whatever you leave behind from your femur'. Aside from completing her mother's quest to immortality, Otrera Beldam seeks vengeance from the one who exterminated her mother and the rest of their kind."

"Yeah, but he's dead!" Feige raised her hands.

"That wouldn't stop Otrera Beldam from trying to destroy the ancient Bergen Chef's legacy," Snowbelle raised a finger. "Oddly conveniently enough, that now-deceased Bergen has only one remaining descendant left... and that descendant happens to have drunk sap from the Night Soul Tree mixed with the grinded Troll gemstones of _twelve_ female Trolls..."

Feige's eyes widened, her mouth dropped, and she felt like her surroundings were under distortion. "DÅRLIG!" She gasped.

"Seriously?" Snowbelle said drily. "It took you that long to connect the dots?"


	13. A Perfect Trap

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 13: A Perfect Trap

It rained in Villainapolis when Dårlig got told by a gypsy of the news of Feige's death. He had just left work and was on his way home when he encountered the turbaned gypsy.

"Will says he saw it with his own eyes," the gypsy said. "The Trolls had the Bergens mutilate and cremate her. They had Will banished..." The gypsy had looked away for a brief minute and turned it back when he heard Dårlig's belongings falling onto a puddle of water. He snickered and pulled out his cellphone to send in a text.

Dårlig ran through the streets, ignorant of where he was going. The apartment was certainly not his destination. He ran past it, his eyes burning and his heart aching. He ran past people, through neighborhoods... he ran until at one point, he hit face first onto an old, apple tree. His back dropped into a pile of mud, but he didn't care.

Feige! The one being that brought significance to his life, gone! She was the only one who ever made him feel loved or happy, and now she was dead! Killed by the ones she was trying to help for pardon! He never should have let her go! Now he might just as well die in the mud...

"Dårlig?"

Dårlig lifted his head up. Madleb Arerto was standing there, holding a black-and-white umbrella above their heads. She was covered in a pink lounge robe that reached her ankles.

"What are you doing in front of my house?"

"Your house?" Dårlig looked up. He couldn't believe that he failed to notice the presence of a black-bricked wall behind the oak tree, shielding a garden and a black-and-white modern house.

Thunder boomed in the sky.

"Goodness, the weather's getting worse!" Madleb Arerto helped him stand up. She tensed a bit when he got up. "What if I bring you inside and you can have a warm bath and cup of cocoa?"

"After the day I had, I don't see how things could get worse," he sighed. Madleb held him by the arm and guided her to the main gate, which proceeded to open on its own. They walked through the garden, a nice miniature valley: a blue fountain with colorful fish swimming in it, bright green grass, numerous red flowers, purple blooming trees, a birdhouse for blue birds to feed on, and a smooth pathway to the front door.

"Huh," Dårlig frowned at the sight of the garden.

"Is something the matter?" Madleb asked as they reached the front door.

"I don't know... I feel like I just saw a déjà vu," Dårlig said. He shook his head. "I must be seeing things."

"I can't imagine." Madleb unlocked the front door and brought Dårlig inside. He was rather surprised by the architecture of the house. From the outside, it looked like it could have around three or four floors, but inside, the main floor had such a high ceiling, it made the space half the house's height. The walls were painted in lavender strokes as if to imitate Van Gogh's technique for the STARRY NIGHT painting. The windows were all covered by thick red curtains, blocking out any outdoor ray of light, most of the furniture looked distorted and bright, as if they were made of neon glow-in-the dark material. The chimney had a stack of snow globes, each holding a decoration representing something about Villainapolis.

"Huh. That's a very bright interior," he commented.

Madleb clapped her hands and dim lights turned on. "You don't have to worry about the mud, I have helping hands that can do the work."

"I see." He walked around the area and paused to admire the snow globes.

"I'm glad you can. I must admit, I thought you and I had some... shared perspectives when we first met."

"Really?" Dårlig frowned at the snow globes. He thought it was weird, the content of each snow globe. One showed the Villainapolis Mall, another the house of Sean Abyss and his family, another the Viliott Hotel... his eyes widened when he saw some snow globes holding decorations of Bergen Town, the alley near the Brewing Cupcake, and even weirder, his apartment.

"We both had... issues with certain mother figures," Madleb went on to continue, she did not notice Dårlig looking down at the scarf Gitane had given him and cautiously brought it to his eyes. "Granted, mine actually loved me. My issue with her is that she did not survive to see me achieve."

"Is that so? Mine wouldn't have cared what I did." Dårlig dropped his jaw: when the scarf covered his eyes, his surroundings were all in a blue hue. The only things that weren't shaded in blue were two small green lights glowing from two snow globes, the ones that showed Sean Abyss' house and Bergen Town. He leaned closer and realized that they weren't green lights, but two small children banging on the glass domes and inaudibly screaming for help. One was a small Troll boy with dreadlocks and the other with facial features and hair format that Dårlig recognized as Sean's.

That little girl was Naomi Abyss, Sean's missing sister!

He put his scarf back in place and grabbed the two snow globes. Madleb turned her head just in time to see Dårlig throw the snow globes at the nearest wall. Pieces of glass broke and as the snow melted, the two children trapped in them grew to their normal sizes.

"Kids! Are you alright?" Dårlig rushed to them.

"I'm... cold," the Troll boy said. He frowned when he saw Dårlig. "Wait. Aren't you the Bergen who killed the mean Chef and Creek?"

"Guilty," he said.

"Behind you!" Naomi shouted.

Dårlig choked. Madleb had caught the ends of his scarf and was starting to choke him with it. He coughed and grabbed the scarf, wanking it off. Dårlig and a shockingly angry Madleb were fighting in a tug of war.

"Careful, she's evil!" Naomi shouted.

"You think?" Dårlig rolled his eyes and let go of the scarf, sending the not-really- altruistic resourcist to crash onto the sofa. For a moment, the scarf flew above her gloves: like an X-Ray, the scarf showed what the gloves were hiding. But rather than seeing what he expected of human boned hands, he saw visuals of extremely thin anatomy. It was as if... she were made of multiple fragments of very thin metal.

Dårlig grabbed the kids by the hands and dragged them to where the front door was, but before they could reach it, some blonde girl in a coachman uniform blocked their path by waving her whip, threatening to hit them with it.

"Not so fast!" She said.

"That voice!" Dårlig recognized. "You were that lady from the fake social services trying to take the Villainapolis kids away! Erica Chinocase!"

"It's just an anagram of my real name! Asina Cocchiere from the Coachfolks! The ones who turn bad children into animals!"

She cracked her whip again, but Dårlig grabbed it by the loose end and pulled it to him. He proceeded to start wiping Asina, but she went on to dodge his attacks through body flips. Meanwhile, the Troll boy and Naomi tried opening the door.

"It's locked! And there's no doorknob!" He exclaimed.

"Let me try." Naomi formed a small triangle with her hands and held it out before the door. " _Green makes apple and milk makes sour cream, Make acid grow on that door, so to scream!_ "

Green bubbles erupted on the door and soon enough, green acid melted a portion big enough for even Dårlig to crawl through. Speaking of the latter, he managed to pin down Asina and tie her down with her own whip as if she were a hunted boar. Dårlig joined the kids and crawled out into the garden... only to see that Madleb and many Rats barricaded the door. For the first time ever, Madleb was without sunglasses and gloves. They could now see her pale fingers, so thin that her skin kissed the odd skeleton she had, and her eyes...

They were bright, but cold-colored blue buttons. They frowned like human eyes, but with such emptiness, and with the thunder outside, if they had gleams, they were dark instead of bright.

"Otrera Beldam." Dårlig shielded the children behind him. "'Madleb Arerto' was just an anagram of your name by mirroring it."

"Finally, somebody who noticed," Otrera said. She sounded far more sinister now that her mask had fallen. "Honestly, this city of full of loons. How did they not notice that right after an Aracdame got exiled, a blind human resourcist moved in? Even the anagram didn't seem so suspicious to them!"

The Troll boy and Naomi hugged each other in fear behind Dårlig, who glanced at them before turning his attention to Otrera, who was beginning to walk to him. Her Rats hissed as they followed her.

"I know what you want," Dårlig cautiously backed up and discreetly grabbed the kids' arms while the two were still hugging. "Just don't harm the kids."

"I can come to these terms," Otrera said. "My promise sticks... if you keep whatever I ask you... WHAT THE HECK?"

Otrera and the Rats were startled when Dårlig threw the kids up in the air. They flew right above the gate and landed on the other side. They wasted no time and made a run for their lives.

"I read CORALINE and saw the movie. I'm sure you never keep promises," Dårlig said smugly. He lost his smug, however, when he felt a stinging sensation on the right side of his rib cage. He looked down? How did he not feel until now Otrera's left hand resting on him and sinking her black fingernails into his skin? Now a black stain was growing on his dirty shirt.

"Some lovely things about Aracdames that the medias always forget to mention, our left nails can be venomous," Otrera said with a big smile. She then snickered when she heard Dårlig gulp. "Oh, don't worry. I don't usually rely on the poisonous methods to kill a victim. The venom just subdues your muscles' strength and puts it in my power."

Dårlig's muscles came to give up. He felt like standing on noodles. His body dropped and Otrera ended up catching him in her waiting arms. Dårlig breathed in panic while Otrera creepily stroke his hair. Even her skin felt like metal as it went up and down his locks.

"Don't worry, it's not permanent," Otrera said in a disgustingly sweet voice.

"W... what are you going to do me?" Dårlig stammered with all the terror he had in his stomach. She just ignored his question and dragged him back inside the house. During the process, she began barking orders at the Rats.

"Join Dwight! Tell him that we have now two brats on the loose to dispose off along with Wonka! Fix my door! And go untie Asina! Tell her that in an hour and a half, we'll be ready to go!"

"Go?" Dårlig asked through his muscle lack. "Go where?"

"To the one place where you will give me what I always wanted," Otrera pulled him up. He grimaced in disgust when he felt her hands touching his sides. "As for you, I recall owing you a warm bath and hot cocoa."

"I'D RATHER YOU DIDN'T OWE ME ANYTHING!" Dårlig screamed in desperation.

 _At the Stone Foundation_

Willywaffle was kneeling before Charles Frollo, who had him confess for a good hour all his sins and past deeds.

"The Lord has listened and you have confessed with all your heart," Charles declared. "You have been duped by an illusion from Satan. The Lord knows you are innocent."

"Thank you," Willywaffle got up.

"Now you must go back and tell Gladiola everything."

"I do not thank you for that."

Gitane slapped him on the back of the head. "Hello! He did not just make you a declaration out of religious purposes! You have to tell Gladiola everything!"

"I don't think you heard the part of the confession where I strictly said I can't be with her!" Willywaffle snapped. "She's a princess, and I'm not!"

"You're right, you're the son of a billionaire chocolatier and running away from others is your solution to everything!" Charles got angry. "You're just afraid of putting trust in people you care about ever since your incident! Well let me tell you, my _mora_ , truth might hurt, but it's way better than spending another seven years in an abandoned mill, knowing that if bad things happened, it was your fault!"

Just then, the ceiling cracked. Two children landed right on top of the altar.

"Is this part of the confession?" Willywaffle casually asked while pointing at the kids. Gitane and Charles glared at him.

"Where are we?" The little girl asked.

"In my church in the Stone Foundation," Charles told them while Gitane helped them get off the altar. "Why did you fly through my roof? The Lord can help anytime, but I think he'd prefer you use the front door."

"Sorry sir," the boy, a small blue Troll boy with dreadlocks, said. "Naomi tried to catapult us with her tentacles to get away from the giant rodents."

"Giant rodents?" Willywaffle bent down so that he could be at the same level as the boy. "You're from Bergen Town, aren't you? You're one of the missing Troll children."

"Yeah. Cerulean Blue," he said. "Otrera Beldam held me captive after I refused to get my eyes switched for buttons. Naomi and I were trapped in snow globes."

"My god, you must be cold!" Gitane checked their temperatures. "I'll go see if we have some soup left."

"How did you escape?" Willywaffle asked Cerulean.

"The Bergen who killed Chef and Creek."

"Dårlig?"

"I think that's his name. Otrera Beldam lured her into his house and he used some kind of scarf to find us and threw our jails on the wall. He..." Cerulean sighed. "He's still there. He threw us above her gate and we made a run for it. But he's trapped there."

"Oh no," Willywaffle gasped. "Where did she trap him? I mean, where's her home?"

"You're not gonna believe it, but the mean witch was actually Madleb Arerto. Mr. Bergen said that... that it mirrored her name. You know, like how 'god' can become 'dog'?"

"The things they don't teach in church," Charles shook his head sadly.

"We can't waste time!" Willywaffle ran for the door. He opened it and ended up going face-to-face with a herd of Rats and Narrow D Bight. His sunglasses were gone, revealing pale, blank white eyes.

"For every creepy witch, there's her faithful bodyguard of a hollowgast," Willywaffle crossed his arms. "How are you doing, _Dwight Barron_?"

"Quite well, thank you very much," Dwight said in a rather sophisticated tone. "My darling is having a great day. She managed to trick you into killing off Feige Blomstroll, knowing that the heartbroken Dårlig Bergen would unpredictably arrive at her house... and when he found about the brats, he did whatever remaining kindness does: he sacrificed himself for the children's freedom."

Cerulean and Naomi cringed behind Gitane.

"But now, none of you are relevant. I'll just contend with killing you, the two church-huggers will be mauled by the Rats, and I think Asina Cocchiere will find better use in the brats. Perhaps she will end up with a blue donkey and a sea-smelling jellyfish."

Naomi gasped and scowled. "YOU did NOT just call me THAT!"

"No, she's right, it's very offensive. This, however, isn't!" Willywaffle punched the earth. Soon enough, Dwight and the Rats were shocked to see the street they were standing on turning into thick, melting chocolate fudge. The monsters hissed as they failed to lift their limbs off the substance. Willywaffle kicked an area, creating a solid chocolate sidewalk that went past the church.

"Hurry!" He said. Gitane, Charles, Cerulean, and Naomi wasted no time and followed him. They had to get away from them.

"I didn't know you could do that!" Charles shouted.

"It's a Wonka thing! I managed to keep that secret for seven years!" Willywaffle said.

Gitane ran for an unused well on which the gypsies and black market crooks had hung a silver gong. She grabbed a thick stick and began beating multiple times on it. Soon enough, since her numerous beatings meant it was an emergency, many nearby residents came out with weapons. When they saw the Rats, they wasted no time. The black market crooks either shot them with their guns or tried to butcher them. The Rats tied to claw their way through, but the chocolate stuck them too well.

Charles spotted some barrels full of gunpowder and flammable oil. With the help of Gitane and some others, they ran on the roofs and started pouring the contents onto the Rats. Someone, we don't know who, threw in his lit flamethrower. If you ask them about the event years later, the black market crooks would just say that they 'barbecued roasted rodents'.

Willywaffle, in the meantime, used his secret entrance to get Cerulean and Naomi to the Crooked Mill. Loom was already for him and went on to board the trapdoor.

"Stay here," Willywaffle told the two children as he had them hide between his bed and the wall. He opened up his window, letting the wind blow in.

"Master insane," Loom shook his head as he gave Willywaffle a cane that the latter had requested.

Willywaffle took the cane and knelt down to give Loom a tearful hug. "Master always thought Loom was one of his best friends." The Oompa-Loompa cried and begged his master to not do it, but Willywaffle was already walking on the same tightrope that Dårlig had walked to get to his home back when they first met.

Willywaffle held his cane to keep himself in balance and to ignore the moat of tar below him. Something jumped on the tightrope and nearly cost him his balance. Dwight Barron had showed up. His arms and legs were now giant needles, which must have helped him to move around the chocolate street. Willywaffle avoided looking down at the possibility of being fossilized, so in a twisted way, he was grateful that Dwight Barron was distracting on the tightrope.

He twisted the top of his cane and threw it away, revealing a blade hidden in it. Dwight began to attack him by attempting to slash him with his limbs, but Willywaffle responded by blocking his attacks with his cane's blade. Meanwhile, Cerulean, Naomi, and Loom watched in dread from the mill as the two fought with everything they had. Occasionally, Willywaffle got scratched on his side or his cheek, or Dwight would get a blade slash and his black blood would spill.

Eventually, Dwight seemed to have enough, so he did a somersault and swung his leg onto Willywaffle's ankles. The viewers gasped at the possibility of their friend falling, but Willywaffle managed to hold on to the cord. Sadly, his cane fell into the tar.

"Perfect!" Dwight turned back into his physical human form. With one hand, he grabbed Willywaffle by the neck and held him up in the air. Willywaffle struggled between keeping Dwight from strangling him or falling into the tar moat. Dwight laughed and used his spare hand to force Willywaffle's right eye to be wide open. "You do have dazzling eyes, I can see why my darling wanted them. But since she's content with your Bergen best friend, I guess I will settle with eating yours myself."

Willywaffle enforced his strengths to get out.

"Here's a thought! What if after I kill you and eat your eyes up, I do just that to your precious Troll princess? I bet I'd feel the happiness if I ate her eyeballs."

"DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH HER!" Willywaffle screamed. He kicked Dwight on the stomach. The hollowgast lost his hold and began to fall, but not before grabbing Willywaffle by the ankle while the latter was barely hanging on to the rope.

Just then, Naomi did a crazy thing: she turned her legs into tentacles and had Cerulean and Loom use her as a gun to shoot her squid ink right onto Dwight's eyes. The hollowgast freaked out and let go of Willywaffle to rub the ink off his eyes, but it was too late for him to realize his fatal mistake.

Dwight Barron, the infamous hollowgast and the beloved of Otrera Beldam, met his death by falling into the moat of tar.

Willywaffle sighed in relief, but that sigh turned into an 'Oh, no' when his grip slipped. He fell...

"Master!" Loom exclaimed.

... and something streaked in blue and magenta, like a shooting star, grabbed him and made him crash land right into the second floor of Charles' church.

"Ow," Willywaffle groaned as he pulled himself off the debris of wood. He coughed through the dust clouds, and when it cleared, he saw Gladiola standing in front of him. Her arms were crossed, she was tapping her fingers and foot in rhythm, and the glare she gave him was beyond cross.

"I'm an idiot," he said firmly.

"And?" she asked.

"I have no good judgment, and you have every reason to hate me."

" _And?_ "

"And... I'm a coward. Not because things scare me, but because I'm afraid of getting people I care of hurt because I trust them. And..." He sighed in guilt. "I should have told you how I felt, but I didn't. Because I'm a coward who didn't think that someone like me... could deserve to fall in love for someone like you."

"AND?"

"There's more?" Willywaffle frowned. Gladiola rolled her eyes and walked up to him. He stiffened when he thought she was going to slap him... but then he felt her hand gently caressing his cheek. He didn't have time to rejoice, since she pulled him in for a deep kiss. Willywaffle was more startled than someone who realized they were near firework rockets, but as the warm feeling increased within him, he eased to close his eyes and hug her.

Gladiola broke the kiss and smiled at him. "And you're the sweetest guy ever to show me that you could care less if I was a princess meeting standards."

"I feel like I turned into a flock of butterflies, is that normal?" He stammered in a rather goofy, love struck tone. Gladiola giggled and continued to hug him. He finally gave in.

"I do love you, Gladiola. More than anything."

"The feeling's returned."

They began leaning in for another kiss, but then somebody cleared his throat. They turned, blushed, and broke off the hug to straighten themselves in embarrassment when they saw that Charles, Gitane, Loom, Naomi, and Cerulean were watching from the door. Half of them looked amused or sighing.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm glad you guys confessed true colors and love and all," Cerulean said in a brushy tone, "but we really need to save the Bergen!"


	14. Otrera Beldam

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 14: Otrera Beldam

The atmosphere outside may have toned down, but inside Otrera Beldam's house, nothing was toned down for Dårlig.

He was beyond scared. The room Otrera had him wait in until she readied his bath was not guarded, but she still had at least one Rat patrolling one hallway, and for someone with murophobia like Dårlig, she must have known he'd stay put.

The venom she had injected in him stung him from within at every move he made that the venom deemed wrong. Once, after being put in the room, Dårlig tried to run for a window, but as soon as he began to run, his muscles failed and he hurt even more when he had only enough energy to crawl. He tried breaking the wall by hammering it with a lounge chair, his arms failed him and if a Rat didn't come in to put him back in his place, he'd be on the floor for a long time.

As what seemed like endless time flew, Dårlig just resorted to curling himself in a corner. How could have been so stupid? Why could he not see through the charade that the so-called philanthropist was in reality an Aracdame? He should have listened to Feige from the beginning, her mere spite towards Madleb Arerto should have been a sign to him. The Rats purposely chased _him_ when he came back to Bergen Town. The Hexe sisters had told him that the Aracdames were hunted down to the last one by his ancestor. Dårlig knew that whatever Otrera Beldam had in store for him, it was most likely out of revenge, but what seemed to disturb him the most was how beyond creepy her 'sweet nature' is now that her true colors were shown.

Honestly, right now, he wished he'd be in a cold, prison cell rather than being some 'house arrested' guest waiting with fear for the _bath_ the murderous host had in store.

Speaking of the devil, Otrera opened up the door. She had gotten rather thin, the heels of her shoes were replaced by giant sewing needles, her hair had more volume, and small cracks were beginning to grow on the skin underneath her right button eye.

"Your bath is ready," she said in a tone that sounded like she was trying to keep herself together in a calm, sweet demeanor, but that she was also quite tired.

"I'd rather die," Dårlig said flatly.

"Too bad." She grabbed him by the arm and forced him to walk with her down the hallway and into the bathroom five rooms away. Unlike the living room from earlier, the bathroom was a mix of gothic, creepy, and comfortable. Everything was black with white outlines, it was like walking in space. The carpet was soft to walk on, the curtains were made of lace designed like spider webs, and the bathtub was king-sized and outlined like a button. Warm water filled it, iridescent bubbles formed mountains above the surface, and a rainbow of scents like cinnamon, lavender, vanilla, clove, and roses came from it. Dårlig wished they didn't make the bathroom smell so nice.

He spotted a pile of folded clothes resting on the sink. Next thing he knew, Otrera pushed him so that he was kneeling on the ground and his back faced her. Dårlig bit his lips as he felt his shirt being pulled up. He heard scissors snipping. In close to two minutes, he was trying to cover himself with his bare arms while the cut remains of his clothes stained the carpet.

Her right hand tapped on the sink, creating an unnerving sound of clock-like drumming. Dårlig gulped and slowly sat in the bathtub. He bit his lip. He didn't want to admit it, but the warm bubble bath was pleasant, and he did _not_ want his warden to know.

Well, given the smile she gave him, it looked like she already knew. "Pleasant?" She asked as she rolled up her sleeves. Her thin hands grabbed a bucket that she dunked into the bathtub.

"Not of you," Dårlig said bitterly. He shut his eyes before Otrera could pour the water on his head.

"I don't expect you to," Otrera said. Man, why did she have to sound so amiable? "It's one of the rare times when I put a victim in a 'no-choice' situation."

" _Rare_?" Dårlig scowled. Otrera just smiled as she squirted shampoo out of a red bottle into her hand. She rubbed it and began to move her fingers leaking in shampoo through Dårlig's hair.

"Let me tell you the story of my life," she said as she went through the Bergen's hair. "I lost count of birthdays, but I was born like at least a thousand years ago. My mother, best known as the Beldam, was by far the best of all the Aracdames. Not because she was their leader, but because she knew how to survive. I was the only one of her 3,999 eggs that she spared."

"That's barbaric," Dårlig said. "Why give birth if you'd just kill off your offspring?"

"Eh, Aracdame biology." Otrera shrugged. "Some spiders actually eat their babies. But what do I care about my devoured siblings? An Aracdame chooses the one and only of her many children to carry on her legacy, and since Mother spared _me_ , I was clearly her favorite." Otrera got up to wash her hands from the shampoo. "Aside from mates, Aracdames only show real love to their children. Mother loved me dearly, I loved her, and she raised me to be just like her. She's have me play along whenever she taught me how to lure children by posing as their better mothers."

"You mean fake delusions of what they wanted in their life?" Dårlig scowled. "Sew them buttons over their eyes and they become just another record in your list of meals?"

"Hey, some of us have tough diets!" Otrera pointed a sponge at him. "Unlike you Bergens, who can survive a life of misery and eat Trolls to be happy only once a year, my kind practically _starved_! Do you have any idea of how hard it is to find the right prey or wait for one, spy it, and create the perfect web to lure those flies in? My mother had to wait multiple generations to find her meals and lure them in!"

"And considering your records, you were beyond hungry."

"Quite." Otrera squirted soap on the sponge. "Then one day, just when Mother praised me for sending in my first spy doll to a potential victim, our Aracdame village was assaulted." He forced the sponge under Dårlig's chin and squeezed it, making him feel uncomfortable as fluids went down his chest. "Ten points if you know who was at the lead."

"M... my ancestor," Dårlig said.

Otrera forced the sponge onto the skin underneath his chin. She slowly dragged it down and back up, as if she were taking her time polishing a marble statue.

"Mother didn't believe the stories of the Assassin the first time we heard them through gossip, but as the news of more of our executed peers grew, so did our fear. When your ancestor finally arrived at our village, the last checkmark of his to-kill list, Mother had me and a crate of her knowledge in a well hidden bellow our basement. 'Stay here and don't come out until it is absolutely silent,' she told me."

"And when you did come out, you found out she was dead along with the rest of your village," Dårlig said. "And you decided to gain your revenge by killing me. Though why wait this long?"

"My life isn't just about you!" Otrera retorted as she lifted Dårlig's right arm up to scrub it. "Since hunting got harder for me ever since everyone knew why my kind was dangerous, I decided to pursue my mother's knowledge. Her biggest discovery that she kept hidden from the other Aracdames. _Immortality_!"

Dårlig's eyes popped as she moved on to his left arm. Rather frightening, since Otrera pulled him to be closer to her.

"No more hunting, no more targeting just virgin pre-teens, and no more hiding! I would live forever without having to worry of who I'd eat and when to prolong my life! Naturally, the research process was very hard because there's a main factor to it." She cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her right in the button eyes. "I need a virgin whose been exposed to twelve Troll gemstones. I failed at finding a potential victim in Willywaffle Wonka, given that consuming his soul would have added sweetness, so I returned to Villainapolis, posed as a blind philanthropist and spent the next years spying on who could be the one. I nearly would have gone with Naomi Abyss..." She tightened her grip on Dårlig, making him wince, "... but the plan changed... when I found you."

"M... me?" The Bergen choked.

"I felt that it was a sign that my task wasn't for naught! How perfectly delightful was it that when I first saw you at the Brewing Cupcake, I not only caught the revolting scent of your ancestor's blood on you, but I sensed the presence of the exact number of Troll gemstones in your stomach! Not even digested, purely intact, and an untouched flower! I disposed of my previous victims since they were no longer of use to me, and for the past few days, my goal was to isolate you from the others. I left that doll clone at your door so that I could spy and see how I could 'hypnotize' you to appreciate your 'Other Chef' so that after I posed as King Branch and tricked Wonka into murdering your joy-rock girlfriend, you'd be heartbroken to run into my house!"

A saddened expression fell on Dårlig's face.

"Now you see, I won," Otrera grinned. "In two days, when the solar eclipse rises onto our destination, I'll have devoured your soul and nothing will stop me from living off for all eternity without hunger weighing me down! And for your sake, I do hope that you have a physical death," she then said viciously, "because if you survive while I become immortal, than I can guarantee, Dårlig Bergen, that you will wish I killed you when we first met rather than being trapped in a fate worse than death!"

 _In Bergen Town_

Sean was still hugging his sister tightly, Willywaffle and Gladiola said nothing due to the ominous time, and everyone stared at Cerulean Blue as the Bergen Chef gave him a cup of hot chocolate. Cerulean's parents and big brother, the Troll family that specialized in making colorful compounds out of seashells, were beyond happy that he made it out alive, but also comforted four other Troll families since Cerulean was the only Troll among the first five disappeared to have returned.

"I had a fight with my brother Azure right after the Troll Tree disappeared," Cerulean recounted his experiences. "When I went to cry in my room, I heard a knocking on my door and I found a buttoned-eyed doll that looked like me. The note said my brother made it for me as an apology."

"And you fell for it?" his brother widened his eyes. "You know I'm bad at sewing!"

"Yeah, I guess I kind of figured it out later. You and Mum and Pop were out, so I played with the mini-me... and then I noticed a doodled door without a handle appearing out of nowhere near my bed. I used my scrapbooking scissors to pry it open, and it led to this tunnel. I crawled through it, and I thought I got back to my bedroom on the other side."

"But it wasn't your real bedroom," Willywaffle guessed. "It was one of the fake realities Otrera made to lure you."

Cerulean nodded.

"I still can't believe that you managed to resist her," Shan Yu said rather impressed. "Children of your age get easily tempted."

"I don't blame them, her stuff _was_ pretty impressive." Cerulean nodded. "She made me think she and my Other Pop were more mellow and the Other Azure was much nicer to me. She cooked seafood, waffles, and ice cream for every meal, and she offered me amusement through my own carousel, an ocean full of seashells to collect, blue cotton candy ponies and so on... On my second visit, she gave me time to think about her offer of getting my eyes switched for buttons."

"Did you tell her no right away?" Willywaffle asked.

"I said I wanted to sleep on it with her, but she refused having me in her room. That set me off because my parents _always_ let me in. I... got curious and waited until she was out of her house to pick the lock of her bedroom. It's where I found out that she devoured my friends Sue, Cashmere, and Joy Choy. Turns out that Otrera Beldam likes to keep silhouetted portraits of the victims she 'stitched on' and hang them in her room. I tried to escape, but she destroyed my way out and trapped me in the snow globe. She said I'd stay trapped in there until I could decide: buttons or freeze to death."

"Sue, Cashmere, and Joy Choy?" Queen Poppy said. "Those are two of the girls and the other boy that went missing!"

"What about our daughter, Lily Pearl?" One of the worried parents asked.

"Lily Pearl? She was the next one lured after me. I think she refused the offer as well. I saw her in the room where Otrera stashed her snow globes on the chimney. She tried to do the same to Lily, but for some reason Lily had a steel pole hidden in her hair, so she hit Otrera with it."

"So she escaped?" The parents sounded relieved.

"Actually, Otrera sedated her. She then gave her to Asina, that blonde human who tried to attack us with her whip."

"So one of the Coachfolk joined in with the last Aracdame," Willywaffle said.

Just then, Hun soldiers burst into the throneroom and rushed to Shan Yu. "Sheriff, we searched everywhere! Madleb Arerto's house is nowhere! It vanished!"

" _That evil witch_!" Feige tightened her hair in an angry fist. "I knew she was suspicious from the beginning!"

"We're sorry that we didn't trust your judgment," Shan Yu apologized to her. "To think I let the one creature I exiled back in. And now she must have escaped somewhere I do not know."

"Maybe not," Cerulean said. "Those freaks talked a lot in the snow globe room. They talked about leaving the city on one of Asina's boats after she collects her last batch of brats and then they'd use her island to go to some uncharted area where Otrera will perform the immortality ceremony."

"Pleasure Island, of course!" Willywaffle snapped his fingers. "If Asina can move it so that the authorities never find it, than she must use it as Otrera's ride! And where Otrera is, we'll find Dårlig!"

"And _how_ do you expect us to find a moving island when the authorities couldn't?" Feige asked.

"Use kids as homing device!" Naomi jumped on Sean's lap.

"Oh, no..." Sean gasped.

"What? Pleasure Island only takes in children. Bad ones, right?" Naomi slid down her brother's lap and landed on her feet. "What if two kids managed to get in Whip Girl's boat with the other children, the boat takes them to the island, and while you use a spell to see where the kids are and what they see, they find out where the witch locked up Mr. Bergen?"

"Naomi, if you're suggesting to volunteer to pose as a naughty kid so that you may sneak into Pleasure Island, then forget it!" Sean snapped. "You nearly got buttons on you, I'm not going to risk the chance of you turning into some animal!"

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but she's right," King Branch said. "Otrera wants to take Dårlig somewhere, and Asina wants to bring kids on her moving island."

" _And_ let's be honest, greedy as she is, that Coachfolk won't resist the possibility to adding two potential victims to her list of merchandise," Willywaffle said. "And two kids happen to be familiar with resisting Otrera Beldam..." He eyed at Cerulean and Naomi, who gave volunteering smiles.

"NO!" Cerulean's mother pulled her youngest son away. "We already nearly lost him!"

"But I have to!" Cerulean protested as he tried to pull of his parent's grasp. "The Bergen saved my life!"

"That Bergen is a murderer and the son of Chef!"

Feige's cheeks burned.

"So?" Cerulean pushed himself of his mother's grasp. "What happened to 'No Troll or Bergen left behind'?"

His parents sighed in defeat. "Way to break them, bro," Azure said. "Bringing in the princess' main motto."

"You have a motto?" Willywaffle looked at Gladiola. She lowered her head and said nothing.

"You used to say, princess, that no Troll or Bergen should be left behind," Cerulean said, "because it doesn't matter the size, the past, the inner and outer twists, and the opinions you have, everyone deserves to find the happiness trapped inside them!" Cerulean went on. "So yeah, maybe he was Chef's kid and lied and killed, but he wanted to be happy with the Troll he loved. And the fact that he saved two little kids from a child-eater rather than saving his hide should show that he's worth giving a chance!"

Gladiola and some others smiled. Feige turned and looked startled when she saw Shan Yu actually crying and pulling out a grey handkerchief to sniff on. Some Huns actually pulled out their phones to record the speech. "Aw, that was beautiful," Willywaffle said.

"Boom." Cerulean and Naomi fist-bumped.

 _Sometime later, back in Villainapolis_

A blonde human boy and a purple-haired little girl, both around seven-years-old, hid in an alley. The little boy poured from an old sack a bunch of items that he and his friend stole: fruits, money, and books from which the girl just tore the pages.

"Boy, I love to tear things apart!" The little girl said out loud. After ripping out all the pages of one book, she threw it away and managed to make it land perfectly in the nearby dumpster.

"It's kinda boring, stealing and throwing away the same stuff!" The boy whined. "I wanna have fun!"

"My, what a good aim," a voice said from the shadows of the alley. The little girl ran behind the boy and the two looked nervously as Nora stepped out of the shadows. "And you two are bored? My, you must be naughty children!"

"So?" The little boy said. "What is it to you?"

"Nothing." Nora shrugged. "But I heard that someone is interested in giving some unique children like you a nice vacation where for a few days, you can be as naughty as you want!" Nora crossed her fingers, and just like that, two tickets appeared in her hands. She handed the two children the tickets and smiled as she sneaked back into the shadows of the alley. The human brats waited a little while before going back to the main street and asking a local shopkeeper if they could use the bathroom. The shopkeeper gave them the directions, and as soon as the two small things locked themselves in the bathroom, they pulled up their sleeves. Bracelets made of Feige's hair were placed on their wrists. They rubbed it and the polyringler magic revealed them as Naomi and Cerulean.

" _Good one, kids_ ," Willywaffle said through the communicator that he had given the pair.

"Eh, I feel like Naomi sold it the most," Cerulean complimented Naomi, making her blush. She looked down at the ticket she had received.

"'Your ticket to a one-way trip of pure fun and lessons are nothing. Bring this with you at the Dragon Port at midnight sharp. No parents must escort you,'" she read out loud. "Wow. Kids must be dumb today."

"That's kind of hurtful," Cerulean said rather hurt.

"No. Dragon Port is the only port near the black market crooks' block that can't be accessed by the bay's walking docks."

" _Yeah, we did kind of destroy the docks so that the authorities wouldn't find a shortcut_ ," Willywaffle chuckled nervously.

"There are black pearls stitched to the ticket," Naomi added.

" _OK, kids. Be careful. The pearls will guide you to the Dragon Port. Keep acting like your bad kids who really want to go to a fun land, but at the same time remain sane. I don't know how she'll do it, but Asina will try to tempt you with anything before she transforms you into whatever animal she can think of._ "

"I still have some Everlasting Gobstoppers." Naomi went through her pockets and pulled out four wrapped up Everlasting Gobstoppers. "We can eat those to avoid any enchanted food."

They split the candy in half, stuffed them in their pockets, and used their polyringler bracelets to get out in their human disguises.

 _Later_

The end of the rain had caused the fog to rise. The black pearls on the children's tickets glowed in the dark, and as they got closer to their destination, the light increased. Naomi held Cerulean by the arm since the fog did scare her, and her hold tightened when they got to the Dragon Port.

Many of the planks were severely damaged , spider webs grew from the poles, and ravens made their nests here. The bay's waters looked so dark and foggy, it was like being exposed to the darkest part of the usually beautiful body of water.

"H...hello?" Cerulean called out. "We're here for the boat ride to fun!"

Something moved out of the fog and nearly startled them by grabbing their hands. Turned out it was just Asina Cocchiere lifting them to the safest, still in shape area of the docks. A black yacht was boarding people on it. On the right side, a dozen children were climbing on the main deck, and on the left side, some shadowy men were hauling goods into the storage room.

"I'm so glad you two could make it!" Asina said with an eager tone as she took their tickets. "What's your name?"

"I'm Louis and this is Suzanne," Cerulean lied.

"Ah! And since you are here, I bet you've been _really_ bad children!" Her smile widened, revealing her straight teeth.

"Oh, yeah!" Cerulean nodded. "We stole, we ripped book pages, we threw away food after only taking one bite..."

"I drew a caricature of my brother on his butt," Naomi said. Cerulean and Asina blinked at her. "What? I used permanent marker on it! You can ask him!"

"O...K," Asina said, visibly disturbed. She had them join her on deck with the other children and clapped her hands to gain their attention while her men prepared the yacht for its departure. "Listen up, my sweet, naughty devils! We are off to the most exciting and fun adventure of your lives! In two to three hours, we will arrive at a youngsters-only island resort! So enjoy this night as the last one with any rules!"

"What kind of rules?" A little boy with pimples called out. The men threw in an anchor and soon enough, the yacht was beginning to leave the dock.

"Only two," Asina told the boy. "First, do not try to jump off the boat until we have arrived at our destination! This is no funny business!" Her tone got serious. "We do have marine security on the island, and I've seen many times when devils like you jumped off my yacht and accidentally got eaten alive by the staff!"

Some of the children gulped. Cerulean and Naomi glanced at one another in doubt.

"Second rule, since we are mentioning staff, is that the left side of the yacht is staff only. The rest of the yacht is free for all of you to relax on until we arrive, but where me and my men go to chill, that's off limits."

Cerulean and Naomi nodded at each other.

"Any questions?"

"Can I go to the bathroom?" Naomi raised her hand and shouted out her question, making Cerulean slap himself on the forehead.

"Second level down, the bathroom are gender neutral," Asina sighed.

Naomi took an early lead. "I'd better go check to make sure she doesn't have food poisoning or something," Cerulean said.

"Your friend's kind of... how can I put it?" Asina rubbed the back of her head.

"Oddly unique in a disturbing way? Yes, yes she is." Cerulean sighed. He followed Naomi, who dragged him inside the bathroom and locked the door. After they made sure nobody would hear them, Naomi pulled out a red conch seashell. As it rested in her palm, she waved her spare hand above the seashell.

" _Shell of the sounds that float, make me hear all on boat!_ " Naomi whispered. Faint red vibrations came out of the seashell and discreetly went over the ship before returning in less than a few seconds. Like a radio, it repeated all the sounds it picked up all the sounds on the yacht: the children, the cook stirring in his pot of soup, the engines running on the waves...

" _Is my Aracdame guest well settled?_ " Asina's voice said in the conch.

" _Yes, mistress. She is well settled in the guest cabin_ ," a man's voice said. " _She's in a rather bad mood, though. Word from her pets says that her boyfriend, the hollowgast, got murdered by the enemies._ "

" _Dang it. And the Bergen?_ "

" _She had us chain him in her cabin even though the venom she stuck on him keeps him from fleeing._ "

" _Just make sure that the brats stay away from the staff zone of the yacht and that no one gets near my guests' cabin. When we arrive, take them through the servants' entrance of the island._ "

" _And the brats? The norm?_ "

" _Naturally. I welcome them to my island, the sea monsters distract them, and I leave them to amuse themselves until they lose humanity._ "

The seashell stopped glowing. Naomi stuffed the seashell back in her pockets. "That's what she meant when she said that the marine security 'ate' the kids that tried to swim to the island. The 'marine security' staff is actually full of sea monsters."

"At least we know the Bergen is on the yacht," Cerulean said.

"How on earth will we get him out?" Naomi asked. "We can't sneak in Beldam Junior's cabin and I don't think we'll be able to sneak along the servants when we arrive."

"Yeah, Asina will make sure all the kids go in the island," Cerulean pondered. "I guess until the adults catch up to us, we'll have to keep pretending to be naughty kids. We'll just have to see where the island employees come and go."

"What do you mean?"

"Think about it. An island where you come in as kids, and you come out as animals to be sold out..."

Naomi took a while to think before she snapped her fingers. "Maybe the Bergen will be kept in the area where they stock the animal kids!"

"Bingo!"

 _Meanwhile_

"Man, these kids are good," Willywaffle commented as he used his spyglass to spot the yacht leaving. "Jane, are we good?"

"Ready as I'll ever be!" Jane Hook straightened her hat and started barking directions at her crew while she dealt with her steering wheel. Soon enough, her pirate ship sailed out of its hiding spot and the pirates and rescue team made their way on open water to save Dårlig.


	15. Pleasure Island

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 15: Pleasure Island

Dårlig winced in pain. The position he was in, hands chained to the ceiling and ankles to the floor, was forcing him to hang a foot above the floor and it wasn't comfortable. The bleeding cuts he had all over his bare arms, chest, and torso kept stinging or dripping.

Otrera had been angry. While he kept it to himself, Dårlig had mentally done a smug smirk when he found out through the Aracdame that Willywaffle had gotten her boyfriend and associate Dwight Barron dead. 'Death by falling off a tightrope over a moat of tar,' as she put it. To think that the same thing could have happened to him...

Right now, he had it worse: Otrera had decided to lash out her anger at him by cutting him. She had temporarily transformed her right hand to its original state, a hand made entirely of thin, sewing needles, and gave him cuts with hit. But while a wild predator mauled preys with its rapid, violent claws, the Aracdame just poked her needle fingertips on his skin and dragged them down, deepening the pain. There have been moments when Dårlig bit his lips to hold back the screams when the pain nearly hit him in the bones.

An hour after the yacht left the Dragon port, the door to the cabin opened and Otrera came in, carrying a tray bearing a sewing kit, bandages, a disinfectant bottle, two cups of hot cocoa, and a chocolate brioche cake. Her button eyes had red marks underneath from her angry crying, but she had calmed down.

"Now you know what it felt like when you cost me Feige," Dårlig spat against the pain he had physically and internally. "I hope your lifelong quest was worth losing your boyfriend."

"Indeed. It just added further stinging to what everyone will endure once I become immortal," Otrera said. She pulled out some cotton and dipped some disinfectant on it to tap on Dårlig's cuts. He bit his lips to avoid screaming.

"Funny," Otrera said. "Out of all the victims I've managed to lure in, you don't scream a lot. I don't even apply anesthesia on you..."

"Thank god, I'm terrified of anesthesia."

Otrera frowned at him. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard a victim say, and that's coming from me. Aracdames never place that kind of procedure, even when we sew buttons on eyes."

Dårlig snorted. "Then clearly you know nothing about me."

"That's what you think," Otrera shrugged. Once she was done tamping disinfectant on the cuts, she pulled out a needle and thread, making it clear that she was intending to stitch his wounds closed. Dårlig was worried of the pain he'd get, but surprisingly, he felt nothing. The needle going through his skin and dragging along the thread reminded him of a fly landing and leaving. Otrera was so precise in her work, she didn't rush nor did the needle ever slip off her fingers. Whenever she was done with a cut, the repair was so well done, the cut was like invisible.

"I really don't get the reason why you're giving me such treatment even though you made it very clear that you intent to kill me," Dårlig said.

"You people always link 'soul devouring' with 'killing'," Otrera shook her head. "When you kill someone, you put an end to the existence of their body. When you devour their soul, on the other end, that's the end of the soul's existence. Aracdames believe in reincarnation, you know? If you physically die in one life, your soul reincarnates in a new form. If the soul's destroyed, that cycle ends." She twisted her wrist and skin grew back to cover her monstrous hand. "Aracdames don't have much in their souls and usually require loving souls to replenish. That's why we specialize in being 'perfect mothers' for victims: devouring the souls of younger, loving beings grants us what they hide in life cycles and that's how we live longer. Merely devouring their flesh would just prolong our physical youth."

"But how would that work in my case? In case you haven't noticed, I'm not particularly loving to you," Dårlig scowled.

"Not directly." Otrera took one of the cups of hot cocoa and brought it to Dårlig's lips. He hesitated, but knowing she'd force him if he didn't comply, he drank the luscious beverage. "You showed your own way of caring when you thought I was Madleb Arerto or the Other Chef. It's not love for a parent but love for someone who shows anything that could make you feel appreciated. Everyone craves to be appreciated or loved. Because you wanted to be appreciated and loved, it's how you succumbed to my ways."

"I'm such an idiot," Dårlig said bitterly.

"You aren't." Otrera put the mug back on the tray once he was done and started slicing come of the brioche. "Like I said, it's a common craving. If nobody wanted to be loved, I'd be starving by now."

"If love is nothing than just a dressing to your salad, than I'm starting to wonder how you even 'loved' your mother and boyfriend."

"Genuine familial and romantic love when it comes to them. But for my preys? Well, it's like how Neil Gaiman described it. 'She loved the child, yes, but the way a miser loves his money and a dragon loves its gold."

"Makes sense." Sometimes, Dårlig really wished that every abusive female villain he encountered wasn't treating him like a trading object.

Otrera stopped slicing and used one of her hands to hold up Dårlig's chin so that the different set of eyes would meet. Her spare hand, on the other hand, greatly disturbed Dårlig: Otrera had detached it and let it slither up and down is upper body in a slow motion, dragging the fingers to perfectly outline the forms of his muscles before reattaching itself back to her arm. She inhaled and sighed, as if the reattaching caused her to get an energy drink.

"It just occurred to me," Otrera said with a smile Dårlig had never seen done to him before, "I'll be very lonely once I'm immortal and conveniently enough, for a Bergen I intend to devour the soul of, you are rather ravishing."

"I don't like where this is going," Dårlig gulped.

"Perhaps, when we get to our final destination, I could have a word with the sacrificial experts..." Otrera caressed the side of his face, even picked up some of his sweat, "there should be a way that I can use you to become immortal, but at the same time see what I can preserve of you and your body... Not to reshape as another one of my creations with button eyes, but as a safe-keep of you..." She cupped his cheeks. "A new you that I could have at my side for all eternity! Perfect!"

"No! I preferred it better when you said you'd prefer I died in the process!" Dårlig shook his head in disgust.

"Oh, but it makes sense!" Otrera began to get excited. "I become immortal, nothing would stop me! So what would stop me from doing my own twisted revival of you? You'd be at my side, perfectly willing to do my bidding! You'd fill in the void of my loss of Dwight, and I'd have you become my king consort! Oh, the great irony! Avenging my kind by ending the Assassin's legacy so that a new one will rise!" Otrera gasped with an idea. "Once immortal, we could blaze down Bergen Town!"

"WHAT?"

"We'd both be the last ones of our kinds and we'll create a new one! Our children will be absolutely gorgeous!"

"OK, I used to think you were creepy, BUT NOW YOU'RE DEMENTED!" Dårlig shouted. Otrera merely yanked the chains. Somehow, Dårlig got lifted up and tossed onto the cabin's bed. Not all his limbs were chained; only his wrists were chained to the posts. Otrera smiled as she pulled out a scarf and gagged Dårlig with it. He struggled to break free, but the venom made him feel worse.

"Chin up, pumpkin. You won't be able to resist me in a few days!" Otrera placed a kiss on his forehead and began to leave the cabin. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go announce our marriage to Asina!"

 _Later, on the main deck_

As the trip went on, the children were just passing time playing cards or admiring the view. Cerulean and Naomi played a card game of President with some other kids.

"So what are you guys looking forward to when we arrive?" Cerulean asked.

"Nothing," one little girl with pigtails said. "I just want to find my little brother and get the hell out of that place."

"You too?" The boy with pimples looked away from his cards. "My twin cousins are missing and I'm here to find them."

Many of the kids on board began to murmur to each other. Cerulean and Naomi were stunned to hear that none of these were bratty kids, but actually well behaved children who pulled stunts just like theirs. They chose to say nothing about it to keep up the facade.

"So if you goodie-two shoes are here, than why aren't your parents doing the job?" Naomi asked rudely.

"Don't you know how parents are useless?" The pimpled boy asked quietly. "They always say they have things covered so don't you worry, but they're wrong. When my twin cousins never came home, my mum told my aunt that they were probably late from school. Two days later, she's like 'the police will take care of them'."

"I know, right?" Another human boy said. "I have a fraternal sister, Sabrina. She goes to boarding school in San Foulisco, so she lives with our grandparents and we talk on the phone. One afternoon, she was talking to me about her friend Cassandra who wanted to run away because she had it with her stressful classes and angry parents and Sabrina said she'd talk to her. For days, Sabrina and Cassandra weren't found. Then, I heard from a black market crook who goes to see this bartender that I deliver the Sunday paper 'How did it go with Joan?' 'Good meat. She sold well. Azari, the way you sell me donkeys brings me cash.' 'Hopefully I won't have to for the moment. I have this new one named Sabrina. She's really strong and healthy. If I treat her well, she'll last longer.' 'Well don't pamper her too much! Ya know what happens when you spoil jackasses!'"

"You think this Azari guy bought your sister turned into a donkey?" Cerulean asked. "You know, it could just be the fact that there are a lot of donkeys named Sabrina..." He paused and got up.

The yacht had now reached the open sea. Fog was rising on the clear waters reflecting the night sky. The children got up to have a look of the massive fog cloud that awaited them while Asina came down. A large smile came on her face and she clapped her hands.

"Boys and girls, I am pleased to say that we've reached your final destination!" She said loud and clear. "An island that you've believed to be mystical, but now you shall see it was never meant to be forgotten! It is the paradise for the foolish and a reward for the most hardworking! I bring you PLEASURE ISLAND!"

Rumbling noises came from around them as if the waves were creating an earthquake. The yacht shook as some things rose from the surface, causing the water to cascade. They startled the passengers, except Asina, because those 'things' looked like they could be big enough to crush half a city and were covered with thick reptilian scales. The reptilian things jumped in and out of the water as if to circle the yacht.

"Ocean crocodilians!" Naomi gasped. Cerulean hugged her.

The ocean crocodilians remained hidden in the fog, but then the tips of their tails met twenty-feet above the water. Some kind of male silhouette was standing on the tips and magenta eyes glowed in the dark. Rhythm was playing in the background.

"It's a siren!" The boy with pimples exclaimed.

"And my island's best entertainer!" Asina said. "Boys and girls, meet Sirenius Dazzle!"

A spotlight appeared on the silhouette, revealing a yellow-skinned teenager with mandarin orange curled hair, one blonde dye, and mostly purple-and-blue rockstar clothing, who pulled out a microphone out in the open.

Sirenius: _Welcome to Pleasure Island,_

 _A destination of no reprimand._

The mists cleared and the children gasped when they that they arrived at Pleasure Island, the floating island surrounded by a thick ten-foot-wall made of corals. A rainbow of lights and ride sounds were heard coming from in it, and the entrance was a giant open donkey-shaped grotto with the blinking lights PLEASURE ISLAND. The mists also revealed the female and male ocean crocodilians, massive, but giving great toothy smiles at the yacht's riders. The female one brought the yacht closer to the island's decks while the male one let the singing Sirenius slide down his tail to join the others.

Sirenius: _I'll sing, you dance, and we play a game,_

 _Everything here's just the same._

 _It's my reward to sing you away_

 _So you can behave in any desirable way._

 _Boys and girls, tonight you'll be anything!_

Cerulean nudged Naomi as they boarded off the yacht and pointed at his pocket. She nodded and both children looked down to pull out one Everlasting Gobstopper each, unwrap it, and stuff it in their mouths. What they failed to realize was that by focusing on the candy, they didn't end up like the other children: the singing of Sirenius cause iridescent vibrations to reach their eyes and hearts, and when Naomi and Cerulean looked back up, the children behaved nothing like they did back on the ship. Now, they were literally pushing and shoving one another to be the first one to catch up with Asina as she guided them in a dark hallway illuminated by blinking ceiling lights. There were fountains with donkey statues spitting water, and mermaids jumped out of the water to become ballet-dancers twirling and sighing around Sirenius as he continued to charm through his singing.

Sirenius: _Take some treats, try our casino night,_

 _And don't hesitate to pick a fight._

 _Ride the coaster_

 _And as it goes faster,_

 _You'll wish you were wiser_

 _And spend your time much longer._

 _So don't worry, let me serenade_

 _My charming, unsuspicious game of charade._

 _Boys and girls, tonight you'll be anything!_

Asina kept smiling as she pushed a giant golden door open, showing the children the wonders of Pleasure Island: game stands, theme park rides, a grotto roller coaster that went through a sparkling waterfall, casino games, waitresses with dragon tails making their way around pushing carts full of unhealthy, beyond delicious food, a rainbow Ferris wheel, and a circular platform stage. Thousands of children of all ages and species were running, playing, enjoying the rides, or doing rather misbehaving activities. Sirenius danced his way to the stage, and his singing attracted the admiration of his thousands of young, seduced fans.

Sirenius: _The world is now so far away,_

 _Even now the jackasses can come to play._

 _We give you a guaranteed time in paradise!_

He shrugged his shoulders, smiled, and winked at his audience, making some young girls fawn at him.

Sirenius: _It ain't something fancy for underdogs_

 _We'll give you fun worthy of gods._

 _Boys and girls, tonight you'll be anything!_

 _Take some treats, try our casino night,_

 _And don't hesitate to pick a fight._

 _Ride the coaster_

 _And as it goes faster,_

 _You'll wish you were wiser_

 _And spend your time much longer._

 _So don't worry, let me serenade_

 _My charming, unsuspicious game of charade._

 _Little beasties, tonight you'll be anything!_

The children began to stampede around Pleasure Island to go to the games or rides. Naomi and Cerulean still sucked the Everlasting Gobstoppers in their mouths and faked following some kids to a window smashing game stand to pass Asina easily. The latter smiled at Sirenius.

"Exquisite job as usual," she praised him and tossed him a coin.

"Naturally." Sirenius spoke regularly as he grabbed his coin. "I hear that we aren't taking your usual course for the moment. Shame, I was looking forward to the batch from New Horrorsleans."

"Small changes, yes," Asina nodded. "Don't worry, we'll still be able to send out the boats with crates. Our next stop will be rather... particular."

"An uncharted volcanic island?"

"How did you know?" Asina asked in startle.

"The mermaid ballerinas may be pretty, but they aren't dumb. One of them overheard you ordering the island's maintenance crew to prepare the chambers for your Aracdame guest and her Bergen prisoner," Sirenius said, losing his smile but keeping his sadistic tone. "And I highly doubt that with an eclipse on the way, the Aracdame is here to ride your carousels."

"Fine," Asina rolled her eyes. "Just make sure that you keep all the island brats distracted and that they don't ask questions of our destination. Tell them we just needed to collect volcanic rocks to refill the engine fuel." Sirenius held out demanding hands. "Must we do this everytime?" Asina sighed.

"Let me re-explain the process, _boss_ ," Sirenius warned. "I sing to the brats and you pay me, or I will rat off your island's coordination to Lady De Mort."

Asina growled silently and stuffed a medium-sized pouch full of the equivalent of 400 blights. Both headed towards their separate directions.

 _Meanwhile_

The pirate ship used reflective panels to move through the waves in camouflage. Piratica took care of the steering while Jonathan was on watch. Down in the main cabin, the ship's main captains and the rescue team had been observing through an oyster shell projecting via spell what Cerulean and Naomi were seeing and hearing from the ride on the yacht to the brief thing they caught from the conversation between Asina and Sirenius.

"Guess it explains how Cocchiere specializes in her business even further," Forkjølelse said as he drank a mug full of rum. "Drag kids to Pleasure Island, have the siren hypnotize them with his singing, and get them to have misbehaving fun until they transform."

"And guard the island with ocean crocodilians..." Jane shuddered. "We can't bring the ship near those monsters."

"You're afraid of crocodiles," Feige guessed.

"Ya read the story of Peter Pan, huh?" Jane sighed. She pinched her nose in frustration. "OK. We need to find a shortcut. One where I can have my ship sail to their destination to intercept them... without getting mauled by those..." She shuddered. "Mountain purses!"

"How?" Feige exclaimed. "Do tell me if you happen to have the name of the uncharted volcanic island where Otrera plans to sacrifice my Bergen to become immortal!"

Glass breaking, paper shuffling, and some kind of cat hissing noises came from below deck until the door burst open thanks to Hermia's kick. She flew in with her arms full of sea atlases, manuscripts, and rolled maps that she stuffed onto Jane's desk. "They're going to Isla Del Jaguar."

"How did you find out?" Forkjølelse asked.

"Easy." Hermia presented the maps she had studied and push-pinned with red pins certain areas on the map until when connected with a red yarn, they formed a series of waved directions that shared a common point. "After memorizing all the areas that Asina Cocchiere was claimed to be spotted all over the world for her snatching, I realized that all her stops are part of a navigation course known to the illegal sailors as 'the Bermudan Water Chain'."

"I never heard of it," Shan Yu said as he looked further into the map.

"I have," Sean said. "My mom said it's like the Ring of Fire, only it's a series of freshwater currents that have a powerful gravitational shared core, they cause many ships to be carried away into the Bermuda Triangle... the shared core."

"Right," Hermia nodded. " _But_ , Asina has a _moving island_ , therefore its magical mass can move through the streams without being dragged into the Bermuda Triangle. Also, after some research on sea monsters, I found out that since the Bermudan Water Chain is made of freshwater, it's the perfect area for freshwater monsters to travel in the ocean."

"Thus the ocean crocodilians guiding the island," Forkjølelse sat down on a chair. "If the authorities try to catch up, they get sucked into the Bermuda Triangle. And if they get anywhere near the island, the monsters eat them."

"I also did some research in my manual of uncharted islands." Hermia showed a book.

"Why would they have a book on uncharted islands?" Gladiola asked, confused.

"It's something with people in the black market," Jane said. "Best places to do business without the authority noticing... is by doing it in places that's not in the law's charts."

"I tried to locate any uncharted volcanic islands that are near the Bermuda Water Chain _and_ that take about a day to reach from where Pleasure Island is and Isla Del Jaguar is the only one."

"No wonder the Metal Spider decided to go there," Jane said. "That's where SIGS is."

"SIGS?" Feige gulped. "What's SIGS?"

"Short for Services In Guaranteed Sacrifices," Willywaffle said bitterly. "Cruelly enough, for some reason, they have the legal rights to supply customers with sacrificial needs. From supplying altars down to performing the necessary sacrifice ceremony. And based on what I heard, their main specialty is providing _human sacrifices_."

"And you know this... how?" Gladiola asked, disturbed.

"Azari has a cousin who knows this guy who's drinking BFFs with a guard to some corrupted CEO from Diejing. Said CEO found one of his rivals' spies snooping around his labs, so to make a good message, he had SIGS sacrifice him. Azari said that the passed information claims the CEO sent a coat made out of the guy's dead skin and that one of the SIGS's priest burned the eyeballs."

"We should be to make a turn on the south and then make a loop so that we arrive on Isla Del Jaguar roughly an hour after the folks from Pleasure Island do," Hermia said. "Good part is, the waters are rather safe, the weather report mentioned nothing about potential hurricanes, and we won't be dealing with menaces previously mentioned."

"You always start with good news," Jane remarked. "What's the bad news?"

"Yeah..." Hermia gulped. "The bad news is that to make the loop from the south to Isla Del Jaguar, we'd need to stop by... De Mort Archipelago."

"I'd rather get eaten alive by an ocean crocodilian than get my boat near those islands!"

"De Mort Archipelago..." Feige pondered. She turned to Shan Yu. "Didn't Sirenius mention something about a 'Lady De Mort'? Asina Cocchiere sounded rather terrified."

"She's... well... how can I put it?" Shan Yu said nervously.

"Pure evil?" Willywaffle suggested.

"The reincarnation of everything vile and cruel that have ever roamed any realm?" Jane said.

"A creation of evil mania that bring threat of Ragnarok, everyone from the lowlife to the tyrants are terrified of her, they'd have to be desperate to ask a service from her?" Forkjølelse said.

"She's the daughter of the former dark Lord Voldemort," Hermia answered Feige without fear.

"What, the creepy guy from Harry Potter?"

"Sure, why not?" Hermia said deadpan. "Lady De Mort is her formal name due to her aristocratic title. Penelope Svjetla Marvolo Riddle is her real name, but her preferred professional name is Penna De Mort. She's... kind of like you and your Bergen friend."

"Excuse me?"

"In the sense that a magical contract caused your rather non-natural birth. Penna De Mort was the result of a contract between her father and a demoness. Since he apparently never swore on the River Styx, he slithered his way out of the contract so that he'd have the child, but the demoness died poisoned. For a century, people have known her for being his personal killing machine... until she rebelled and disposed of him since he intended to do the same with her when he'd no longer need her. On her own, she's far worse than her creator. Countries have their own leaders, but Penna De Mort rules all villains."

"Even the same-gender species extremists are terrified of her," Sean said.

Feige seemed to understand what they meant. The witch that terrified everyone was like her and Dårlig. The latter two hadn't hesitated when it came to killing off their parents to be free, and frankly, when Feige thought more about it, even though he got easily captured by Otrera, he had surpassed his mother Chef in trickery and killing plots. _And everyone fears De Mort..._

"I know this is not going to sound pleasant to any of you," Feige said, "but I see no other option. If we have to approach her archipelago to get to Dårlig, we'll have to ask her permission. Does anyone know if she has some kind of email address?"

No one dared to answer. Willywaffle was the first to react: he put down a glass cube from his pocket onto the floor and grabbed a hammer to smash the cube. The others dodged to avoid the flying glass shards. Willywaffle put on some plastic gloves and cautiously grabbed what the cube once held: a tiny vial bearing a black liquid.

"I only keep this in case of extremely dire emergency," he said, "but the desperate ones can send a magical message to her by writing it with basilisk venom ink." Willywaffle carefully uncorked the vial on Jane's desk. Feige wasted no time and pulled out a quill and paper from her hair.

Gladiola briefly stopped her. "Are you sure you want to do this?" The princess asked her.

"Dårlig means everything to me," Feige said firmly. "I'd rather die than spend the rest of my life grey knowing that I did nothing to save him."

Gladiola took a deep breath and let Feige proceeded. The brave Troll girl used her hair to make a pair of hands that held the paper while she cautiously moved the quill to write.

 **Dear Ms. Penna De Mort,** (Feige had no time for formalities)

 **My name is Feige Blomstroll. I know this may sound completely ridiculous and probably not worth your time, but I am a human-sized Troll and I am writing you this message to ask for permission to approach your archipelago. I am on a pirate ship with others and we need to make a loop from your islands to reach Isla Del Jaguar before Otrera Beldam sacrifices by Bergen boyfriend to become immortal. I hope you have it in your cruel blackheart to take this at heart.**

Feige was done with her message. As if it sensed that she was done writing, the ink lettering turned into snakes that dissolved away on the paper.

The paper then jumped off the desk and into the air. Black linear art drew itself at the center, illustrating a closed eye. Then, like that, the closed eye opened and blinked on the paper, startling everyone. The paper eye blinked further at Feige, who could only do a hesitant wave to say hello. Once it had a good look at the Troll, the eye shut itself and disappeared. The paper fell on the ground and a new text appeared. Jane, being the closest to where the paper had fallen, picked it up and read the new message out loud.

"'Feige Blomstroll, I have put some thought into your message. I will gladly take in your request and let the ship dock my islands. However, I have two conditions: one, I'll only tolerate the ship's presence on my territory for an hour. Death will extend the crew's visit if they try to stay longer.'"

"Charming," Forkjølelse sighed.

"'And second, I mandatorily demand that during that one-hour docking, you meet me at my archipelago's central island at 12pm sharp. You must come alone, Feige Blomstroll. Severe consequences will come if I find out that you try sneaking your comrades in my vacation home with your polyringler antics.'"

"HOW DID SHE KNOW?" Feige was shocked.

"It's Penna De Mort," the pirates, Sean, Willywaffle, and Shan Yu said in unison.

"'What they said.'" Jane read out loud. "'I look forward to chatting with you over brunch.' End of message." Jane crumbled up the paper and tossed it in her cabin's boiler chimney. "Great idea, Blomstroll. Try to make your brunch date with the Princess of Evil quick, I don't want to arrive as a prepared shish kabob to the ocean crocodilians."


	16. The Lair

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 16: The Lair

Cerulean bit his lips. He'd normally scrapbook out his frustration, but he couldn't unless he wanted the folks of Pleasure Island to realize that 'Louis and Suzanne' weren't actually hypnotized. Therefore, he stuck with continuing to suck the Everlasting Gobstopper in his mouth. At least it tasted like several versions of his favorite berry pies.

He and Naomi had walked around everywhere in the main playgrounds. He saw no exits, not even a bathroom door. There weren't even any signs of those doors with 'employees only' limitations.

The duo hid among a group of children that amused themselves by throwing metal pétanque balls at fancy glass stained windows that you'd only find in a cathedral. They held bowls of ice cream and faked eating them with delight. Surprisingly enough, the Gobstoppers were way more flavorful, the ice cream just tasted bitter in their mouths.

"Where could the way be?" Cerulean said quietly. He and Naomi threw away their ice cream bowl in the nearest trashcan and continued walking around the stands. "It's not like this theme park is the only thing on the island. Where do the kids even sleep?"

"They don't." Naomi motioned at some kids throwing bowling balls at wooden dummies of what probably meant to represent parents. Cerulean saw what Naomi meant: some of the children had sleepless dark marks in their eyes. "The more they get tricked into playing, the more they forget about bedtime."

"Making them easier prey to transform if they can't physically resist." Cerulean kept looking around. As they passed the Ferris wheel, Sirenius Dazzle kept going around the masses of children to sing his song. Naomi paused when she heard a particular piece of the song. She dragged Cerulean behind the statue of a clown and stared at the park's largest ride: the rollercoaster that went through grotto tunnels and right under the splashing waters of a beautiful waterfall. She frowned as she kept staring at the cart full of happily screaming children getting soaked and disappearing into the waterfall... until five to seven minutes later, the cart moved backward to its starting point, but without the children.

"It's a one-way roller coaster."

"So?" Cerulean asked.

"You've never been on a roller coaster." Naomi shook her head. "My mommy took us to a state fair once and I got sick after going on a roller coaster. But if there's one thing I can guarantee is that roller coaster carts aren't supposed to come to the starting point backward."

"They aren't?"

"No. It's like... making an ant walk around a car tire. It can move in zigzags or in loops, but it must follow the circle so that in can come back to the beginning." She pointed at the roller coaster. "And remember what the guy said in his song? ' _Ride the coaster and as it goes faster..._ '"

"' _You'll wish you were wiser and spend your time much longer_!'" Cerulean caught up to her. "He was saying that we'd change by going on the roller coaster! Naomi, you're a genius! That's our ticket!"

"Yeah, but if the kids disappear right after they cross the waterfall, that means the water is enchanted..."

"We'll just have to keep our mouths shut. Come on!" Cerulean and Naomi raced to get in line for the roller coaster. It was quite packed, considering that Sirenius' song seduced many children into trying out the thrill of their lives.

They waited for their turn for minutes. As time went, the duo managed to do the math: since the cart only accepted five children in the cart, three in the front and two in the back, Cerulean and Naomi would probably sit in the back when their turn came. More minutes passed and they got closer to the platform. When he saw that Naomi was beginning to get scared, he took her hand in his. Naomi stared at him and blushed.

"Aw, you two must be a couple!" The employee said in a gushing tone when their turn came up. "We'll put you in the back seats, you lovebirds!"

"Thank you." Cerulean and Naomi took their seats, unsure if the employee really thought they were a couple or if he actually meant that they'd turn into actual birds.

The children in front of them, one being the pimpled boy from the yacht, some elf-eared girl, and a green-skinned boy. As the employee pulled down the lever, the cart creaked as it moved slowly into the mouth of the grotto tunnel. Cerulean and Naomi kept their hold on the safety handle and their mouths shut.

The roller coaster dropped and began to move as fast as a cheetah. The kids at the front led loud cheers of screaming joy. The duo in the back kept their mouths shut, despite the fear that made their stomachs want to churn. The loops they encountered increased the desire to throw up, but they kept their mouths shut.

"Here comes the splash!" The pimpled said in excitement as the waterfall came into view. Naomi and Cerulean kept their mouths shut, but also closed their eyes and covered their mouths. The water felt cold and chilling as it only hit their skin, but the kids who kept their mouths open acted as if they just got served a lemonade waterfall in the heat of summer.

"I need air!" Naomi gasped for air and in shock when she realized she accidentally spit out. She and Cerulean gasped when they realized that once hit by the water, the bracelets lost their capacities and the children got their original appearances.

"I guess Ms. Feige can't wash her hair with cold water," Cerulean commented.

A squawking noise alerted them. The elf-pointed girl started squawking uncontrollably.

"What's wrong with... EEHAH!" The pimpled boy's question of concern resulted in braying. His sudden behavior scared the green-skinned boy.

"I want my mom... MAAH! MAAH! MAAH!"

No words could come out of the duo's mouth. It was clear that the hypnotism applied on the brats had worn off when they went under the waterfall, and now whatever conscience they had left was only present to witness the physical horror. A feathered tail grew from the girl's bottom, the pimpled boy's head turned into a half-human, half-donkey one, and the green-skinned boy's skin turned into green wool. Seconds later, the front passengers were now a regular donkey, a white peacock, and a green donkey.

A wooden door came in sight at the end of the track. Cerulean grabbed Naomi and jumped off the cart, landing on a pile of dirt. "Come on!" Cerulean had Naomi follow him to hide behind a rock while the gate opened and the rollercoaster cart went in. Cerulean cautiously crawled and lowered his head to peak underneath the door.

"Hurry up!" He heard gruff voices talking. "We got only five minutes to get these brats off the cart before it goes back!"

Cerulean motioned Naomi to follow him. Like stingrays, they crawled onto the dirt floor and underneath the door. Shadowed men were busy forcing the animals off the cart, they didn't notice the duo sneaking behind a series of boulders. A series of animalistic noises echoed all over the cavern walls, Cerulean had to cover his ears from that drastic orchestra. He and Naomi took a peak and gasped.

This was the real Pleasure Island. Not the pleasant theme park with singing sea monsters, but a sinister cavern with series of tunnels. Wooden platforms had been installed to walk on, the walls had been carved into pens, and a steamboat was parked on a river that spread the smell of saltwater. In every pen, animals were forced in masses, categorized by species or colors. The number of majorities was uncertain, but it was quite clear that there were many beasts that ranged from regular animals to colorful ones.

The duo stayed hidden as they watched their former fellow passengers being dragged out of the cart and brought out to platforms. "OK, let's see," one of the shadowed employees held a clipboard. "The boss' request for the next batch of animals. This donkey will have to go in the pen with the others heading to the market, the fine peacock will go to the zoo..." The shadowed employee groped the green sheep's wool "...and this fancy fellow will be sent to the textile factories."

Naomi covered her mouth in horror.

"Just those three? Aren't there supposed to be five total?"

The duo stiffened from their hiding spot.

"Guess the line at the rollercoaster got short," one of the other employees said as he placed a harness on the donkey. "I'm sure more will come."

"Yeah. Besides, I hear business will be expanding soon."

The employees departed to bring the animals to the pen while the employee with the clipboard pulled up a lever and the cart went back through its course. Cerulean and Naomi waited before finally daring to talk.

"Any ideas?" Naomi asked.

"I got nothing," Cerulean admitted.

Two shadowed men came in their direction, and the particular thing about them was that they were actually of midget size. Cerulean and Naomi stared at each other, getting the same idea. In a few minutes, right when the cart came back bringing more transformed animals, the midget employees were grabbed by tentacles. No one heard a series of punching and tying nor did they notice that the midgets were replaced by Cerulean and Naomi, who had managed to steal their uniforms. The uniforms were just full body cloaks with gloves, it was no surprise that they looked like moving shadows with small eyeholes.

"OK, let's remain discreet..." Cerulean said cautiously.

Barely a few minutes in disguise and walking on a platform, they were intercepted by a shadowed man with a clipboard and a maid carrying a tray full of tea and other refreshments. "Hey, midgets! Were are you going?" The shadowed man asked.

Naomi cleared her throat and stunned Cerulean when a gruff, adult male voice came out of her mouth. "We just finished feeding the pigs and we were going to find the supervisor to ask him what our next assignment should be."

"Yeah, we wouldn't want him to think we're lazy." Cerulean said by deepening his voice.

"Proactive, huh? Excellent! You just found yourself a duty!" He took the tray from the waitress and handed it to Naomi. "My girl and I will be able to clock out if you guys can take this to Mistress Cocchiere. Do you know the way?"

"I'm not sure." Naomi shook her head. "Honestly, being near the pigs at feeding time made _him_ faint." She pointed at Cerulean, who just stared at her.

"I know, right?" The waitress gave Cerulean a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. "My friends have it worse, feeding the pigs _upstairs._ " She then pointed at the other end of the cavern, where the wooden platform led to a glass elevator. "Take the elevator to her quarters. It'll be on the sixth floor."

"Wow, thanks..." Naomi blinked at their nametags. "Suzanne and Louis?"

"No problem..." Louis imitated Naomi by reading the midgets' nametags. "Bernie and Sandy."

"Enjoy your day!" Cerulean said as they began to part ways.

"Of course! Remind me that we owe you two cups of coffee!" Sarah waved back at them.

 _Minutes later_

They stepped inside the glass elevator, complete with hip-hop background music and a red-carpeted floor. Naomi still held on to the tray while Cerulean checked the elevator buttons.

7- Theme Park

6- Boss' quarters

5- Guest quarters

4- Prison Cells

3- Livestock loading

2- Employee residence & entertainment

1- Island engines

-1- Sea Monster Feeding Area

Cerulean pushed the button #6.

"Shouldn't we go to Floor 4?" Naomi asked. "He might be there."

The elevator went up.

"Or, we could bring her the tea and see if we can find out where he is. After all, he might be in the guest quarters..."

The elevator stopped on the 4th floor. Cerulean and Naomi cringed in their disguises as Asina Cocchiere and Otrera Beldam stepped in. Asina scowled at the 'midgets' and noticed they were heading to her floor. "What's the excuse this time?"

"What?" Cerulean asked.

"The excuse that the maid who was supposed to bring me my tea today? Everytime, it's the same thing! The maids always try to find a way to clock out early by having midgets do their job!" The children moved out of the way so that the two witches had room to stand.

"You could just fire them," Naomi said.

Asina widened her eyes and gasped. "For a midget, you're bloodthirsty!"

"I am?"

Asina blinked. "You _do_ know that when I dismiss and employee, I throw them in the water to be fed to the ocean crocodilians, right?"

"Bernie forgot," Cerulean said. "He inhaled too much when we had to feed the pigs earlier."

"No wonder." Asina nodded.

"You actually turn your fired employees into monster brunch?" Otrera asked in surprise.

"So?"

The elevator opened up on the 6th floor. Asina took the tray from Naomi. "Consider an extra 50 blights on your paychecks. You may go."

"Hold that thought." Otrera took one of the teacups and held up the teakettle to pour in some dark tea. Once she gave Asina the kettle back, she pulled a red bottle out of her coat and poured all of the bloody red colored liquid in it. "Here, take it to the resident of Cell 15 on the 4th floor. And please, don't ask what it does."

"Of course." Cerulean stiffened as he took the teacup from the Aracdame. He and Naomi quickly got into the elevator.

"Good midgets," Asina commented as the door closed. "Remind me to nominate them for employee of the month."

As the elevator went down, the children noticed the dark heart-shaped bubbles bursting from the surface. "That's low," Naomi commented. "She put a love potion in the Bergen's tea."

"Will he automatically fall in love?" Cerulean thought about Feige Blomstroll.

"Nah, it's not real love. Aracdames can't feed off victims if they have experienced true love's kiss." Naomi looked at the teacup as they reached their destination. "If he drinks it and she kisses him, he'll think he's madly in love with her..."

"Then he'd willingly let her eat his soul."

They stepped out of the elevator. A shadowed man worked at a desk bearing a lot of keys. He looked bore to death as he read a newspaper. Cerulean got an idea and took the teacup.

"Hey, pal." Cerulean put the teacup on the guy's desk. "I thought you could use some."

"Aw, thanks Sandy!" The shadowed man was touched and tossed away his newspaper. "Caffeinated tea?"

"Yep." Cerulean said. "By the way, the boss sent us to tend to one of the prisoners. You know, give him a reminder that he's both a prisoner and a guest. A prisest, if you want."

"Prisest..." The shadowed man chuckled as he drank the tea without blinking and went to the keys. "Which cell?"

"Cell 15."

"Oh, the one they put the Bergen in!" The shadowed man nodded and gave them the key. "By the way, if you're planning on giving him a massage, use one of the robotic hand sticks near the wall torch."

"Why?" Naomi asked.

"Cell 15 is one of the prison cells where they chain the prisoners in midair and the floors are more fragile than porcelain, they'd fall right into the ocean floor if they ever managed to break free. But don't worry, the boss' guest with the button eyes double-dosed her muscle-weakening venom in the Bergen. He's bound to be unconscious for a while."

"Thanks for the feedback. We'll be careful," Cerulean nodded. The kids made their way to the cells.

"Thanks again for the tea, I've never felt so heart-fulfilling!" The shadowed man said. "Remind me that I owe you a cup of coffee!"

 _Minutes later_

The prison cells of Pleasure Island were just as scary as the animal pens, only the message was clear that whoever was imprisoned would not come back alive. They were arranged in a series of tunnels and man-made caves, making the section look like a sinister beehive. The rock walls and ceilings were carved smooth as if the architect took note that climbing would not give any escapee the chance to, well, escape.

The children took some peaks at the cells. Every single one of them had man-made spikes carved from the walls and prickly with cascading drops, thus making them slippery. As they walked further, the floors of the cells looked like they were ranging from solid to crumbled, from corpses who died still chained while some skeletons looked like they had chosen to curdle and starve in whatever was left of the floor rather than attempt a lethal jump.

They finally reached Cell 15. No guard was at the door. They used the key to unlock the door and step inside the cell. Cerulean held Naomi back before she could make a false move. If she tripped, she'd fall into the rather fragile platform ten feet bellow them. Ahead of them, at the center of the room, Dårlig Bergen was chained from arms and legs to the walls. His veins were popping in his skin and a metal muzzle covered his mouth.

Cerulean and Naomi got rid of their disguises. "I think I could shoot an enchanted stingray needle at him from here," Naomi said as she pulled out a purple-colored stingray needle. "My aunt uses these whenever we get bit by venomous pests. The needle should be able to absorb the venom and wake him up." She summoned her tentacles and did a perfect toss. The enchanted stingray needle landed right on his neck and glowed as it began to suck in the venom.

Cerulean had his dreadlocks lasso around one of the chains until they came back to wrap around his waist. "See if any guards show up."

Naomi kept guard. Cerulean swung himself until he finally kicked to zip line his way towards the Bergen. He had his hair harness him around the Bergen's waist and once that was done, he pulled out a pair of scissors from his hair. Cerulean had taken some lessons from King Branch with other children on how scrapbooking scissors could also be used to pick on locks. He managed to pick the locks of his right hand and left leg, but when he realized he made the Bergen swing, he also noticed that the picked locks made the loose chains hit the walls. Even the small pieces that fell caused large cracks on the lower floor.

"Hurry!" Naomi said.

"I'm trying!" Cerulean struggled to pick on the right leg's chain lock until he succeeded. The loose chain hit the wall and the cracks increased, but the last chain pulled in the Bergen and Cerulean to crash like a wrecking ball. Cerulean's hair loosened and the young Troll would have probably fallen to crash the cracks for good and land in the ocean... until he felt something pulling his hair.

Dårlig Bergen had regained his consciousness. He kicked himself from the wall and swung back to the main floor. Once he brought Cerulean back to the ground, he grabbed a hold of his last chain and ripped it with his bare hands before doing the same thing with his muzzle.

"Gah!" He choked. He then plucked the stingray needle off his neck. "Thanks."

"Mr. Bergen! You're OK?" Naomi asked.

"I was being held captive by a mentally creepy buttoned-eyed witch whom I can't tell is trying to both eat me or marry me. My options are varying. But what on earth are you doing here?"

"We volunteered to infiltrate Pleasure Island to find out where you were held. The rescue team should be on the way..." Cerulean said.

"Hold on." Dårlig cut him off. "Rescue team?"

"Yeah. Princess Gladiola, her boyfriend Willywaffle Wonka..."

"Gladiola and Willywaffle are dating now? How long was I captured?" Dårlig frowned.

"Hours. Then there's Naomi's brother, the sheriff, a bunch of pirates, and Feige."

"Feige?" Dårlig's eyes widened. "Feige is alive?"

"Yeah, you should have seen all of the 'I-told-you-so' the others got from her."

Soon enough, despair melted away from Dårlig. As if he had gotten an energy drink in him, he got up and grabbed the children to have them be carried by sitting on his shoulders.

"Let's get the Hell out of here!" He ran out of the cell. Naomi and Cerulean giggled for their rides were far more fun than the rollercoaster. Dårlig halted in his steps, not because guards came in the way, but because the shadowed man at the desk from earlier was kissing a pug.

"Never realized he was such a romantic," Naomi commented when she noticed the completely empty teacup.

"What happened to this guy?" Dårlig frowned as they stepped in the elevator.

"Oh, don't get us started!" Cerulean rolled his eyes as he pushed the #2 button and the elevator door closed.

 _Meanwhile, in Asina's office_

Asina lost her attention on her conversation with Otrera when a shadowed man brought her the printed list of the hourly records of transformed animals for the morning. Her fist tightening on the paper startled her surrounded ones.

"Carl! Pray tell me what animals came out at the cart that pulled in like 45 minutes ago!" Asina glared at her employee.

"A donkey, a peacock, and a sheep?" Carl asked. Asina wrapped her whip around his neck and pulled him in to have a face-to-face with her list.

"Three animals, that's right! And what's the number that _should_ be in the cart?"

"F... five?"

"You got that right!" Asina twirled her whip and forced him to crash onto her solid door. "Three animals came in, not five!"

"What's the big deal about the number of animals that come in the carts?" Otrera asked. She waved at the office's big window that showed the animal pens and the beasts being brought onto the boat. "You still have a thousand children waiting to make you rich."

"You don't get it!" Asina dropped her fist on her desk. "The rollercoaster is the best attraction in my island and the one that leads the brats to become merchandise! Five children go in the cart at every turn! No more, no less!" Asina agitated her fingers to make the connection. "If there are less than five children on the cart, that means that the ride has a short waiting line, which means that there aren't many children trying the ride, which means SOME CHILDREN STILL HAVE THEIR CLEAR MINDS!"

"Maybe it just takes them longer for them to be lured in?" Otrera asked.

"Not ever since I have that siren singing the brats into full naughtiness upon arrival to speed up my business!" Asina went to a miniature statue of a donkey she had on her desk, popped its head open, and clicked a red button. A large screen came out and Asina manipulated its function until she had two security camera footages pulled out, one that showed the cart leaving the starting point with five children and the other showing the same cart arriving with only five children. "The kids in the back... they're gone!"

"Maybe they turned into bugs and the next arrivals accidentally sat on them?" Otrera suggested.

"Nah, I don't do bugs." Asina forwarded the second footage and paused it to where her henchmen were unloading the three animals... but two children were crawling underneath the door. "Wait... aren't those the kids that escaped your house?"

Otrera frowned and walked up to the screen. Her button eyes widened when she recognized the two victims she had trapped in snow globes after they had managed to resist her.

"Cerulean Blue and Naomi Abyss? But if they're here, that means..." She scowled in anger. "They came for Dårlig, and I highly doubt they aren't undercover for the Hun Elites!"

"Jackass fertilizer!" Asina put a hand underneath her desk and pressed a green button, turning the ESCAPED VICTIMS alarm on.


	17. The De Mort Archipelago

Trolls: Dårlig and Feige

Chapter 17: The De Mort Archipelago

Willywaffle sat on the level of the main mast's crow nest. He had been watching the horizon full of nothing but clouds and water since dawn. His lungs took in the enjoyable air of ocean breezes, purer than the one overcrowded by the urban odors of Villainapolis.

He heard someone coming up. When he turned, he saw Gladiola climbing up to join him. Her right hand carried two full skull shaped mugs (the pirates and their tastes in furniture) while her left hand looked like it was hiding something behind her back.

"Wait." Willywaffle took the mugs for her, giving her better balance to sit down properly next to him. He took a sniff from the mugs. "Rum."

"They didn't have coffee," Gladiola said. She kept her hand behind her back.

Willywaffle frowned. "You're not just here to bring me rum," he guessed.

Gladiola shook her head with a small embarrassed smile. "I guess it's probably weird, considering that there's a fifty-percent chance that we survive the end of the world tomorrow, but at the same time..." She immediately pulled out and presented to Willywaffle what she was hiding behind her back: a small bow wrapped with blueberry blue paper and cotton candy pink ribbon. "Happy birthday."

Willywaffle gave out a touched sigh. He hadn't received a birthday present ever since he ran away from home. "Gladiola... you shouldn't have." Willywaffle took the package and patiently unwrapped it slowly. Once the paper was out of the way, he opened up the small box. Resting on red fabric was a bracelet, fabricated out of red and white felt strings braided to look like candy cane vines. His golden initials were the main centerpiece of the bracelet.

"You made this just for me?" A smile appeared on his face, gleaming as the sunrays made the bracelet's texture shine. Gladiola took the bracelet in her lavender fingers and slipped it through Willywaffle's left wrist.

"Fits like a glove," she said.

Willywaffle then noticed she had two purple bracelets on her right wrist and that they were similar in the vine braiding technique. The difference was that hers were more... modest. Suddenly, in synchronization, two pink and blue flowers popped open from her bracelets while the WW on Willywaffle's popped open like a daffodil. Each flower came with a colorful glow and a cute bell ding.

"A Hug Time bracelet," Gladiola said.

"So we hug everytime they ding?" Willywaffle got his answer when Gladiola gave him a hug. He sighed and returned it. Conveniently, hugging her did rejoice him. "Question," he said. "Does it go on vibrate when you want to go to sleep?"

"Yes." They ended their hug to see each others' eyes gleaming like colorful orbs due to the sunlight. With no one to interrupt them, they went in for a kiss. As they did so, Willywaffle caressed Gladiola's soft cheek while her hair, as if by miracle, extended to stroke his. Gladiola broke the kiss, startled by how her kiss with Willywaffle suddenly made her hair move.

"H...how?" She held it in her hands before finally letting it go. She and Willywaffle looked in awe as it went up and stopped, leaving curls at the tips. Still baffled, Gladiola took out a bluish elastic hair string and tied her hair up. She pulled out a compact mirror and saw herself with her old, trademark elegant ponytail. "I don't understand. I thought Troll hair couldn't grow back once cut..."

Willywaffle just smiled and put his hand on the compact mirror. "I guess it was because of true love."

The sun seemed to glow brighter and make the ocean shine like glass around them as Willywaffle took Gladiola's hands.

Willywaffle: _It's no longer pure imagination_

 _That it's you I want the most._

 _It's no longer a big question_

 _That I always wanted someone like you so close._

He pulled her up so that they would stand on the platform.

Willywaffle: _I can see it now in my heart_

 _I don't want us to fall apart._

 _I dreaded being below your league_

 _Until you revived me with your intrigue._

 _Is it rapid insanity_

 _That I want you with me?_

Gladiola smiled at him and they began to waltz around the top of the mast.

Willywaffle: _We could be prisms in the sky._

 _So that you could be my light._

 _We'd have nothing left to cry_

 _Unless separation brings the last fright._

 _We'd be the rainbow that comes after rain_

 _And we wouldn't have so much pain._

 _So let's just be prisms in the sky_

 _So that our hearts can finally fly_

 _Forever._

They stopped to curtsy. Gladiola took a walk to stand at the end of the mast, the sun being ahead of her and Willywaffle behind her.

Gladiola: _I finally found my purpose_

 _And I discovered myself through you._

 _I almost pulled down the curtain_

 _Until you reminded me what I was meant to do._

She took his hand and pulled him close to her, their heartbeats nearly touching one another.

Gladiola: _I almost forgot my true colors_

 _And my part in this reality,_

 _But you're my destiny._

 _I finally see it now._

 _Now the world is full of new wonders_

 _To explore when we find the way somehow._

They went back to dancing. Soon, it almost felt like the open ocean turned into outer space and the ship turned into crystals.

Gladiola: _We are now prisms in the sky._

 _You were meant to be my light._

 _I now have nothing left to cry._

 _Separation won't bring our last fright._

 _We are the rainbow that comes after rain_

 _And we no longer have so much pain._

 _We are now prisms in the sky_

 _And now our hearts can finally fly_

 _Forever._

Gladiola's hair lassoed up to a beam and allowed the princess to swing herself off, with Willywaffle following her by swinging down with one of the ship's cord. Soon, they were surfing in space, leaving a trail of splashing stars.

Gladiola and Willywaffle: _You are the sweetness in my life._

 _You are the true colors of my life._

 _What would I be without you in my life?_

 _Can we sense this feeling?_

 _We can't stop the feeling._

 _We don't want to stop the feeling!_

 _We always were prisms in the sky._

 _In the dark, you're my only light._

 _We have no more tears left to cry,_

 _We'll never let separation bring the last fright._

 _We are the rainbow that comes after rain_

 _And we no longer feel so much pain._

 _We'll always be prisms in the sky_

 _Your heart will be with mine to fly._

The environment went back to its normal state. Willywaffle and Gladiola stood back on the platform. Their fingers were wrapped up together while their foreheads touched and the two stood for a moment of peaceful silence.

"Will... There's something I've been meaning to ask." Gladiola looked up at the human she loved. "Remember when I told you I almost considered self-exile? Well, you made me think... You were right that I couldn't just neglect my responsibilities, and Cerulean's speech reminded me on how I did swear since my birth that I would leave no Troll or Bergen behind."

"And it's what you are doing by helping Feige save Dårlig." Willywaffle nodded. "I'm glad you managed to figure things out. Though I don't know how a long-distance relationship will work... And I don't know exactly what your parents think..."

"Oh, they completely understand," Gladiola shrugged. "But that's not what I wanted to ask." She held his hand tightly. "Will, if we survive all of this... and if you still don't want to return to your dad, would you come back to Bergen Town with me?"

 _Would you come back to Bergen Town with me?_ That question sent currents in Willywaffle. She was asking him if he'd stay with her in her home realm once they defeated Otrera Beldam. _Should I_? He loved Gladiola, but he couldn't just be a leech to the royal houses. _I could just start fabricating my own candy and open my own shop with the things I find there, at least it would be more decent than being a crook._ Besides, he could just open up portals to regularly visit his friends back in Villainapolis.

"I need to think more about it," he said out loud. "I just don't want to be some kind of leech..."

"Will, I know you are better than... WHAT IS THAT?" Gladiola pointed ahead. The sun was still up, but something got closer to them up ahead. It looked like some kind of floating gigantic dome, only it was breathing... Breathing with lightning currents that moved around the dome's form like blood veins.

"The De Mort Archipelago," Willywaffle said.

 _Later_

If Pleasure Island looked pleasant on the exterior, the De Mort Archipelago immediately welcomed death at first sight.

The pirates and the rescue crew gathered on the main deck while Jane Hook, dreading to be barbecued, steered her ship towards the dome. As soon as it got ten feet close to it, an opening pulled itself up like theater curtains. The ship was able to go through the dome without getting severe impact from the lightning. The lovely ocean waters immediately turned black once on the other side of the dome, as if the whole point was to make the 'guests' feel like they were sailing on perilous waters despite the odd tranquility.

No one was able to count the amount of islands in the archipelago. They were so big and dark, and with the waters, they could almost make their own continent. The earth was made of extinct volcanic rocks, and the islands' flora looked like they could be artificial: all the trees, flowers, and anything grassy and leafy was colored in teal, purple, or dark venom green hues that shined so much with the lightning dome. A shining green castle stood at the center of the archipelago, bold and obvious.

"This would be a cool resort for a wild party if this wasn't the home of an evil witch," Gladiola commented.

" _Nah, that's just her vacation home._ "

Everyone jumped. They hadn't foreseen the sudden appearance a serpentine girl (with arms and legs, mind you). She looked like she was in her late teenage years, her skin was deathly white, her massive hair was a rainbow of dark green, blue, and black tied up in a giant ponytail, her dark suits and white boots looked menacingly formal, and her arms and legs were covered by green snake scales and spikes. A lethal tail slithered behind her, with her hair moving in the same format, and her golden eyes glared with menacing reptilian irises.

"Bloodyle Silisk," Shan Yu said. He looked like he was trying to stay calm while he was clearly shedding a sweat drop.

Bloodyle did not bother responding to him. Her glare was at the two Troll girls. When she began walking towards them, her feet making deep sounds of stomping and her tail scratching the boards, Willywaffle held his arm up to shield Gladiola. The serpentine beast took a deep breath and made a disgusted expression before finally turning to Feige. " _You must be Feige Blomstroll._ "

"So obvious?" Feige asked coldly. Jane Hook bit her fingernails in anxiety.

" _Bitter, rude, pinch of jealousy, and not even one fragment of that fowl royalty stench your friend is covered with_ ," Bloodyle nodded. " _Yes._ " She waved her hand overboard. Feige walked to see what she was showing. A black gondola with a moving snake tail steering it was waiting for them. " _I am to escort you for your chat with my adoptive sister. Your friends and the royal-stench ones can deal with preparing their ship to make the loop. Once you're done with your chat, I'll take you back to the ship and you get the hell out of here_."

Feige nodded. "I'll be back in a bit," she told the crew.

"Eh. We already got a sarcophagus ready in case there will be a burial at sea," Jane shrugged.

"Uh... ok." Feige used her hair to climb her way down the ship and onto the gondola. She allowed Bloodyle Silisk to slide down her hair and land with a small smile.

"Do Trollkonge and I really smell that bad?" Forkjølelse asked everyone while the gondola made its way.

Jane pecked him on the cheek. "Nah, you smell like winter mint gum to me."

 _Meanwhile_

Feige oddly didn't feel uncomfortable, sitting in a gondola that had a serpentine tail steering it to the main isle of the archipelago. As they went further, the waters got fuller... with sea snakes. The flora kept shining on the way.

" _I still can't believe you're a tall version of those awfully peppy Trolls_ ," Bloodyle told her bluntly. " _When Penna told me she got a visual of you, I thought she was bluffing. The only tall trolls we know are only two heads taller than me, carry clubs, and the dumbness of a nail._ "

Feige shrugged. "I thought snakes weren't supposed to have legs."

" _Except I'm not an ordinary snake, but a basilisk. I prefer going humanoid, it helps me avoid constantly washing my stomach_."

"So I see." Feige tapped her fingers. She could only think of how much danger Dårlig could be in right now. Normally _he_ should be the one protecting her from potential danger and not the other way around.

They reached the central isle. Its fields looked like they had been mowed, since it didn't have all the shining flora from before. As they got off the gondola, Feige saw that when close enough, the palace almost had the same exterior as the royal one in Honolulu... except now that she was near it, Feige saw that it was mostly made of green gemstones... that caused her navel to glow.

"I take it that Penna De Mort likes putting Troll gemstones in her architecture," she noted as Bloodyle escorted her to the palace. They walked around the side of the building. The flashing lightning's rays reflected onto the walls, making Feige see miniature green bolts sparking back from within the mineral. Feige was stunned. "Or maybe it's not Troll gemstones."

" _No, it is_ ," Bloodyle shook her head. To further illustrate her point, she grabbed a rock and threw it at a wall. The poor rock disintegrated into molecules just like that, leaving Feige speechless while Bloodyle went on. " _The Beldam and Willy Wonka weren't the only ones who managed to exploit the many capacities of your species' precious colored rocks. Sure, twelve gemstones could probably give you immortality or a candy of never-ending flavors..._ "

"And... since when do gemstones meant to harvest and spread happiness to turn force fields into rocks?" Feige looked nervous.

" _It's not a 'since when', but a 'why'_."

"Why?"

Bloodyle rolled her eyes. " _Seriously, does everyone think that these gemstones are only good for happiness? Many decades ago, Penna found a chunk of green Troll gemstones buried underneath her old home's main lands. After some experimenting, she discovered that producing a mass quantity of a specifically colored gemstones could generate its bioelectricity into doing anything the owner values. In this case, Penna mass-produced green Troll gemstones to create the mineral that builds her estates... for security reasons. Helps avoid paying for alarms and securities._ "

"Wow..." was all Feige was able to spit out. "So... are the eccentric flora and the dome..."

" _Just landscape modified by enchantments. It's Penna's way of saying she wants to be alone when she's on vacation..."_

They got to the back of the palace, which was a courtyard made of black stones, some kind of hybrid between a palm tree and a cypress spread everywhere, white marble statues of snake, and a fountain spitting liquid that Feige didn't want to look further into. Some kind of dark boa constrictor had its tail coiling on the handle of a cart bearing food and dragged it to a fancy dark table, and sitting at the table was none other than the archipelago's namesake.

"Fifteen minutes earlier than expected," Penna De Mort remarked when she pulled out a pocket watch. "Impressive. Only the bold come early while the cowards are late... And ironically, you're the child of a coward."

Instant shock waved down on Feige. For once, she forgot the pure evilness of Chef, her father, Mr. Darwin, and Otrera Beldam. It had taken only one sentence for Penna to show that she was not to be messed with. And unlike the previous villains Feige had to deal with in her life, Penna De Mort looked nothing like a physical monstrosity. Sure, the witch had a paler version of Feige's purple skin, her bluish eyes had sharp black irises, her dark hair reached her waist and had some teal blue streaks, and her dark teal halter dress and purple high heels had embroided Troll gemstones sewn on to make snake form or scale patterns, but overall, she was a majestic demon filled with perfect form, elegance, and aristocratic filling.

In other words, she was evil incarnate.

Bloodyle ushered Feige to the spare chair facing Penna De Mort and even pushed the chair forward once Feige sat down, nearly trapping her in-between. The Troll could tell that she was bound for a long conversation.

"Bloodyle, please make sure that the pirates are ready to leave as soon as we're done." Penna inhaled the air and grimaced. "You know I have my limits when it comes to _monarchy stench_."

"Of course, sis." Bloodyle nodded her head and made her way out. The boa stared at Feige, who didn't know if it was bad that she stared back. After a minute of staring, the snake tilted its head.

"She wants you to pet her," Penna De Mort said.

"She?" Feige caressed the snake as cautiously as she could, but the snake just acted like a happy puppy getting nice rubbing behind non-existing ears. The snake slithered off use her mouth and tail to place dark teacups on the table and pour black tea in them.

"Nice girl, Naga," Penna De Mort smiled at the snake and pulled a live mouse out of nowhere. Naga wagged her tail in excitement. The witch threw the rodent in the air and Naga did a jump, catching the mouse right in her mouth.

Feige gulped at the sight.

"Relax, Naga doesn't eat human-sized," Penna De Mort said. "She poisons them and leaves them rotting."

"I hope she didn't make the tea," Feige said.

"Just store-bought tea, I'm afraid." The witch took a sip of tea. "So, you are the child of Creek Blomstroll. I must admit, you committing patricide through poisoning _and_ constriction? Very despicable and evil... two words that I love having in my vocabulary!"

"How come you know so much about me? We've never even met."

"No, but I know of Mr. Darwin." Naga opened up a dish shielding some kind of roasted meat and began to slice and place it on plates that she distributed to the two ladies. "The most pathetic sorcerer I've met in creature trafficking. He failed to try selling me beasts and I permanently cut ties with him when he tried to offer selling me a Bergen and a Troll that the parents really wanted to get rid off. I am evil, but if there's one thing I don't tolerate, it's people putting the blame on me for disposing their children."

"How... generous?"

"Thank you. And concerning the topic of you, I heard of your case when one of my protégées told me that one of the Penguin Cousins told her that they recently brought you in to Villainapolis after the 'chaos' you brought to Bergen Town. I mean, a human-sized Troll? A knife-throwing Bergen? Both murderous and manipulative? I had to see with my own eyes to believe it!"

"So you're what, a fan?" Feige cut some meat and ate it. Rather delicious.

"More of a... supporter of misunderstood non-human villains in and out and who are worth my time," Penna shrugged.

"And Otrera Beldam?" Feige questioned. "Aren't you bothered that she's trying to become immortal?"

"Meh. The first time I met her, it was like twenty years ago, she ran away screaming. It's my effect on the rumors and gossip of my cruelty: even the past's best villains, immortal or long living, are terrified by me. Same-gender species look like saints compared to me!" The thunder dome boomed. "But I don't have time to go into a song to rant about my evil ways, I'll get straight to my point: I can get you the right push you need to save your partner's life and bring the Aracdame to her deserved fate... if in return, you work for me."

This made Feige stop eating. "What's your definition of work? Because I spent all my life serving villains and for all the crap I did for them, I got nothing but abuse and attempts to get me eaten."

"I'm a different kind of evil, Feige Blomstroll." Penna De Mort clasped her hands together. "In case you haven't been told, what separates me from reckless villains like those you've served is that I always keep my promises. Since I always swear on them on the River Styx."

Naga began switching the meat dishes for some salads.

"And I can swear on the River Styx that whatever pain and sweat I have you two go through, it would be way better than a lifetime of greyness knowing you failed to save your Bergen." Penna lost her pleasantries to scowl bitterly. "And I should know. My creator forcing me to kill my first and last crush turned me evil."

Yeah, there was no way that Feige wanted to become an eternal abomination. "Well... if I said yes, what would you have us do as your... workers?"

"Well, I..." Penna sighed in embarrassment, " _really_ must find a personal chef. The previous ones barely lasted a few weeks and I can't stand eating store bought dishes anymore. Plus, I need someone who can both a meditation coach _and_ be my gofer on business hours."

"Uh..."

"With of course, the granted vacations and the 300 bights by the hour salary."

Feige was speechless. 300 bights by the hour? Wow, anyone who was willing to work for the sorceress must have been desperate for money!

"So?" Penna De Mort asked.

Feige rubbed her hands. "And... that push you have to offer?"

"Let's just say that I'll give it... when the time comes." Penna held out her hand. "Deal?"

Most people, especially the readers, would have screamed at Feige to not do it. But she did it anyway.

She took Penna's hands and shook with a contract sworn by the River Styx.

 _Later_

Everyone on the ship didn't dare to say anything after the island legless reptilians helped them guide the ship so that once they were good to make the loop, they'd be going straight north as soon as Feige returned.

The pirate captain paced nervously, Shan Yu and Sean just waited, the rest of the crew just waited to get ready to perform their sailing routines, and to distract Gladiola from her worries, Willywaffle had her show him all the scrapbooks she had in hand. He had to admit, for books that did not contain much words, they did manage to make explanations brighter and easier.

"So, there's like at least _one_ holiday _every_ week?" he asked.

"Yeah, I can't even begin to list some of my favorites!" Gladiola flipped through the pages. "Tulip Tuesday, Hair-Lloween, Trollmas, Maternal Festival, Bellow Bug Day, Royal Anniversary, my birthday, my friends' birthdays, Prank Day..." Gladiola took some deep breaths. "I think you get the idea."

Willywaffle opened up the pages back to tulip day and dodged to avoid getting sprinkled by the pop-up tulips spitting glitter. "I used to bake flower-shaped pastries back when I was a kid. The berry or vanilla flavored ones were usually the best."

"Oh, you'd _love_ the diversity of berries that grow in the forest." Gladiola said.

"Blomstroll ahoy!" The Bartok sisters shouted in unison. Feige climbed back on board.

"Well?" Shan Yu asked. "What did Lady De Mort want?"

"She just wanted to know how I got tall," Feige said.

"What, that's it?" The Hun was stunned. "Usually the people I see leaving from her terrains alive act like they just traded their souls."

Feige shrugged.

"Well, she's here. Let's get the Hell out of here before we actually stay in Hell!" Jane ran for the steering wheel. The pirates wasted no time to pull up the anchor, hoist the sails, and make their way out of the archipelago once the dome curtained up to let them out. As the ship sailed off, Willywaffle and Gladiola noticed that Feige was staring absently back at the archipelago disappearing behind them.

"I know that look," Willywaffle shook his head. "It means 'got desperate and made a pact with the devil itself'. Feige was desperate to save Dårlig, so she made a deal with Penna De Mort."

Gladiola gasped. "She really is nothing like her dad."

"Was he dad _that_ bad? I know only much concerning Dårlig and his mother."

"Frankly, the first time I met him was last week. But ever since I was born, I was constantly told the tale on how Creek went from the most zen-like of Trolls to the one who betrayed his entire species to be eaten just to save his hide. First time I was in the same room as him, he was angry that I was, you know..." She waved her hands in hesitation.

"Don't tell me. He was ticked that he, the popular one, did not get the rich girl because she preferred the town freak?"

"Uh, sure. Why not?"

"That is _so_ clichéd."

"Point is, he was never there for the Trolls nor was he there for his daughter." Gladiola looked back at Feige. "I guess... Maybe my kind never had a full understanding of happiness."

Willywaffle looked confusingly at her. "You think... Trolls don't fully get happiness?"

"Kind of?" Gladiola said. "It's just... how on earth can things like singing, dancing, hugging, scrapbooking, eating Trolls or Troll gemstones, holidays and other happy things make you happy... when you don't that there's someone in your life that truly makes you happy?" She waved back at Feige. "She clearly found her happiness in Dårlig. And unlike her dad, she'd do anything for Dårlig even though he's a Bergen."

"Well, that's love for you. It makes you do crazy things." Willywaffle said. "Speaking of crazy, don't you think we should check on the spell? To see what Cerulean and Naomi are up to?"


End file.
